6600
The afternoon sun
How many days have
I stared at my ceiling?
With sadness lining my pupils,
With hopelessness in my expression
And loneliness in my heart.
Held back tears shinning with regret and sorrow
Not exactly anticipating tomorrow.
But very much indeed,
tomorrow comes,
It is the beat of the risen sun,
the most beautiful creature out of all our sons.
We marvel, as his crystal hands gently
Stroke his wooden drum stick.
He's the next day,
A day of reminders,
Constant
Thoughts,
thoughts of perfect guys i never
get,
Places i never dared went
And awesome friends that not really in my "real" circle,
Holding tight to its reputation time flys quickly by,
That perfect scenario,I held in my head,the night before, never comes,
He never comes!
He just never do.
Sigh!
Week by weeeeeeeek,
Months and years
Standing alone through every
holiday year,
Singing holiday cheer
Through my mouth, however, my insides
Remains roped up, held hostage with fear.
He may never come to me,
He doesn't know how bad I desire him,
I'm sooooo ready to package myself all up
And expire with him,
But maybe being alone is my true reality
To have it all never could have been
Destined to interfere in my path
Therefore I just,
continue 2 skip
On sad golden chips
Everyday I walk that impossible path,
And every night,
I
Stare
At the ceiling,
Safely inside close doors,
not deluded by the angelic
Light, that glitters unattainable rays
Through the morning, and afternoon sun..
