Sitting alone with bended knees,
Scribbling away the minutes,
Marking the paper with desperate pleas,
When you know that your heart’s not in it.
Gave up looking for a muse,
Since time before hereafter,
Pecking at the mesh discouraging you,
From tying a noose to the rafters.
The walls are too close,
And the day seems too long,
When those who loved you most,
Seek salvation in the great beyond.
But the light that you breathe,
Cramps leaden in your lungs,
And the technicolor symphonies,
Curse you to a life lived half sung.
And there is no ever after,
No promises hidden in your prayer,
So hurry now, forsake their laughter,
Those that love you will meet you there.