So lost in what to say or do…
since the choices are so few…
I could bitch awhile about my shitty situation
and maybe try to do some inner regulation
I could cry for years about my broken heart
but what’s the point in playing that part?
I could bitch and moan about the state of our life
or I could just slip away and end it all with a knife…
Just the common problem to share
but the question is do I really care?
Do I care that you know the me no one else does?
Do I care that you see through these eyes?
Do I spare the time to write anymore?
Do I look forward to a new page?
No… Not anymore…My love has left me
it’s just something that reminds me of my reality..
In this life and age of mine, I’d rather be daydream blind…
I’d rather deal with the nightmares behind my eyes
and not all these friends with the see through disguise.

I wont post a bitter station in all the wrongs committed
or on all the people I’ve loved and on them I shitted.
Since now it seems funny how it all fitted.
and I thought this was something I just about kidded.

I keep loosing my drive to commit to this page
since it’s just getting more bitter by the age…
I see the world in ways I never knew possible
and I never seem anything plausible
I wander the earth in search of love only to be tricked
and in this on running comedy. the fool is the part I picked.
I search inside myself for the answers, but I only find lies.
As I look through myself and my own see through disguise.
Maybe that’s why I despise the page so much now…
No one to read it, No one to comprehend
no lies to send or rules to bend..
Just me and my mental torment driving me insane
and I look at this page, and ask what do I gain?
Should I just lose my mind in the rut lands of the cosmos
am I the party without a host?
Should I dine on my soul
to gain my self control?
Should I give it all away
and go start anew another day?
Should I seek the questions in the elders?
or find someplace far away and seek shelter?

To have it all end would be a dream come true…
these lies., these liars, beggars and thieves..
Where it wouldn’t matter anymore about me or you
Where a thing is, where one retrieves…
No more horrors in the back alleys
No good Samaritans turned evil
Stalking little ones in the valleys
where it dwells in the hearts of people.

04/14/2003

Posted on 04/15/2003
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Howard