Does a tear fall on every letter you write, or maybe not,
do you think about what you used to have or what you've got?
Do you wake up in the morning still hurting from the night,
does the memory of the moment  still cause a vicious fright?
Maybe then you know the price you have to pay for flying high
sometimes we will survive, sometime we may die.
Crawl into a darkened hole and cover your ****** ears
but then you won't have any hands to wipe away your tears.
It's a sad life to live this party game, always in pain
grabbing and stabbing, reaching for whatever you may gain.
There is a shelf life to all you do and even all you dream
it will all come to a nasty end  worse than you ever could seem.
Try to fly and get above all the damp clouds and the sun
you lost her in all the reverie and she was the only one.
Its over, love played out and bled until it died a sad death,
now you  live for what is still to do with a quiet breath.

WHC
Oct/2013