no title
Posted: Tue Jul 18, 2006 3:37 pm
more of a rambling than a poem, but still i think it to be deep. do not take my words seriously, because it can vary in meanings. remember a poem doesnt have to rhyme. anyways, hope it doesnt offend anyone, because that was not the intention. but anyways, it here it is.
time.............it comes, it goes, and we accept it. we cannot change the past. what is done is done. regrets? few. lost friends? plenty. but no matter how much we try to change, we always seem back at the starting line. we can never reach the finish. as if though we wish this to be nothing more than a bad dream, hoping to wake and all will be alright. falling to pieces in the midnight hour gazing at ourselfs in reflection of moonlight, living in undetectable darkness where the kids arent all right. in the end we find the true meaning and the real truth being this: death is the only escape ....it is then and only then that we can truely be free. we run the race, yet we never reach the finish until the coldness knocks on our door and breathes upon us. we refuse to accept this and that is the problem. we look for our reflection to see our true self only to find the mirror to be broken. the shattered remains that we have left upon the rock are all that is left. trying to pick up the pieces we spill the blood of the innocent dripping from our wrists hoping to rid the evil of that which is to come.
time.............it comes, it goes, and we accept it. we cannot change the past. what is done is done. regrets? few. lost friends? plenty. but no matter how much we try to change, we always seem back at the starting line. we can never reach the finish. as if though we wish this to be nothing more than a bad dream, hoping to wake and all will be alright. falling to pieces in the midnight hour gazing at ourselfs in reflection of moonlight, living in undetectable darkness where the kids arent all right. in the end we find the true meaning and the real truth being this: death is the only escape ....it is then and only then that we can truely be free. we run the race, yet we never reach the finish until the coldness knocks on our door and breathes upon us. we refuse to accept this and that is the problem. we look for our reflection to see our true self only to find the mirror to be broken. the shattered remains that we have left upon the rock are all that is left. trying to pick up the pieces we spill the blood of the innocent dripping from our wrists hoping to rid the evil of that which is to come.