What am I
A product of what has been
A member of the future to be
A traveler on a desolate street
For what has remained
Stays still inside
Dominant in its home
Awake in my mind
Shattering ever still
As the florescent lights hung above
Alone in my heart ache
As time aggressively slips by this desolate son
Peering through the door
Hoping for a glimpse
Of what strikes by my view
Is surely to be missed
For happiness is a fleeting view which takes hold
So it is tragic as you feel the agonizing departure of your soul
And for what cannot be heard is that which is understood
For what I have felt for a short season is that of my reproof
What I have missed the most has only brought me pain
As I sit alone in the darkness my hands begin to shake
For I have grown old in my youth and not as graciously as I'd hoped
My thoughts feed my own torment like a hand around my throat
For all that I was
In this world of lies
Another product rejection
And an endless defile
Though I wish, it is in vain
And that of nothing new
Crushed under the weight
Of this iridescent blue
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
What am I
A product of what has been
A member of the future to be
A traveler on a desolate street
For what has remained
Stays still inside
Dominant in its home
Awake in my mind
Shattering ever still
As the florescent lights hung above
Alone in my heart ache
As time aggressively slips by this desolate son
Peering through the door
Hoping for a glimpse
Of what strikes by my view
Is surely to be missed
For happiness is a fleeting view which takes hold
So it is tragic as you feel the agonizing departure of your soul
And for what cannot be heard is that which is understood
For what I have felt for a short season is that of my reproof
What I have missed the most has only brought me pain
As I sit alone in the darkness my hands begin to shake
For I have grown old in my youth and not as graciously as I'd hoped
My thoughts feed my own torment like a hand around my throat
For all that I was
In this world of lies
Another product rejection
And an endless defile
Though I wish, it is in vain
And that of nothing new
Crushed under the weight
Of this iridescent blue