Never forget a friendly face,
but with names, I always seem to fumble.
So many tribes and different callings
in this concrete plastic jungle.
But sometimes people leave behind,
a common thread,
a word that's kind,
that resonates inside our minds,
its those folk that I need to find.
The varied ways we live our lives
shall always find a port of call,
see there's so many souls that shine,
and then there are the ones that fall.
Between the cracks, between the creases,
those uncomfortable places where hope sings
are never tempered without reason,
this is just the way it seems.
Yes this is just the way it seems,
all living with awoken dreams.
Yes this is just the way it seems,
for life is but a pebbled stream.

This is just the way it seems.

The throbbing headache and nausea
I can endure; I've had worse.
Right now I could cry,
such a raw hope consumed me
as I thought about you, desperate.
It was still dark for me then,
when I needed you. Now it's day.
It brings a true smirk to my face
to know you are nothing more
than a night of binge drinking:
a foolish part of my youth,
a consequence of boredom.
I could not hold your liquor,
I vomited all that bile you said to me
in the hedges outside. Don't fret,
this is not a bad memory, in fact
you might never be a memory at all.
I am well. I will drink better and
far more dangerous poisons.
I am today, you are only last night.