Stained
January 11, 2012 at 2:17am
You're up at six to greet your day.

You grab a cup. You're on your way

into the world to make your mark

,to make your pay, to play your part.

The role you know so very well.

You've played before and gave it Hell.

But still you feel it isn't you.

It never fit. You're forced into

a life that's wrought with many fears,

and so much pain, and drowing tears.

To toil and slave. To make a buck

and silently not give a ****

about your house, about your friends,

about your life's long, bitter end,

about your job, about your boss,

about a lot of **** you've lost,

about what's owed or what's been paid,

about yourself, or being saved.

They're all the same just one long day

that never seems to fall away,

and passing time it threatens to

go passing by forgetting you.

Erasing all you ever did.

Remaing locked and playing dead

and when awakened from a sleep

that's tortured you and held you deep

beneath the waves, among the lost,

beside the dead at such a cost

into your new awakening

where you are God, and you are king.

Beyond the empty life you claimed

to wash you clean. No longer stained.