The morning’s been coming earlier
The night’s been playing harder
Its been getting colder
Everyone’s getting older

The morning star twinkles at me
Saying things I didn’t want to hear
These songs are burning harder
I find no escape from this betrayal

I will myself to run, run from this waste
My hands are stuck in the mud; hardened, deadened
Such solace I’ve found in loneliness
Such pity I hear from the voices in my head

Minus one, a black hole, what more is there to bear?
Excuses misused, dead on the floor
It’s too late to say goodbye, too early to say goodnight
Too long to live a lie

Labels: poem, thoughts