Once it was so ******* easy to connect.
We drifted as stranger's.
And now I a relic.
Stands part of something long forgotten.

Fueled by ego now drown in rejection they all leave you eventually.
Friends are nothing more than accidents waiting to happen I need only the critic to tell me I'm wrong to know something still is done right.

A theater of my thoughts tattered in a  part of town long since overlooked by others stands all the same as I still remain.

My pages worn beaten exist with as much passion as they did so long ago.

Fruits of my labor now rotten none wish to consume.
**** what you know!
For even I cannot understand whom I truly am.
Trace the lines there still mine just the same .

I listened to the fools laughter at my expense thinking I have lost what we never choose to behold.
The sleeping dog simply waits for the chase worth while than runs to
do something simply to spend time.

I never left I simply waited .

Time choses the fate and I simply fill in the blanks.