The days pass me by,
Can't think of much to say,
I try to tell the truth, but lie,
Why must I act this way.
I've got these feelings inside,
And no matter how hard I've tried,
They will always reside,
I hide the tears I've cried.
The time that I've wasted,
Forever pasted, on my back,
Yet my future is hopeful,
I can save face at last.
But does it really matter,
Does what I say make any sense,
Or is this all just chatter,
Thrown over the fence,
I quite often wonder,
What's the point of it all,
But I'm sure as you also do know,
Its not about the fall.
How do I recover,
From a life filled with pain,
All that I thought I knew,
Is a small as a grain,
Of sand stuck between,
The most obvious place,
And the place, I'd rather not look,
Is in the mirror at my face.
How do I end such a confusing poem,
With the line from Wizard of Oz of course,
There's no place like home.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
The days pass me by,
Can't think of much to say,
I try to tell the truth, but lie,
Why must I act this way.
I've got these feelings inside,
And no matter how hard I've tried,
They will always reside,
I hide the tears I've cried.
The time that I've wasted,
Forever pasted, on my back,
Yet my future is hopeful,
I can save face at last.
But does it really matter,
Does what I say make any sense,
Or is this all just chatter,
Thrown over the fence,
I quite often wonder,
What's the point of it all,
But I'm sure as you also do know,
Its not about the fall.
How do I recover,
From a life filled with pain,
All that I thought I knew,
Is a small as a grain,
Of sand stuck between,
The most obvious place,
And the place, I'd rather not look,
Is in the mirror at my face.
How do I end such a confusing poem,
With the line from Wizard of Oz of course,
There's no place like home.
