Saturday, July 24, 2010

playing with the shadows

paper glass shredded the elasticity of a dream for something more

yesterday's memory left a package at the back door

my true love, you made me out to be nothing but a joke

putting me on hold, in the darkness, after each time we spoke

the beast is broken by the mystery of the night

facilitation of anger against nothing left to fight

and to the hypocrite who calls my angel your number one

keep your let downs because you treat her as if she were none

an embarrassment to nothing because that’s all I ever was

they say playing with the shadows is all he ever does

what you gave me is what I have left to hold on to

distance with no end is all love put me through

an inadequate and emotionally impoverished soul

the pieces that never really fit into a whole

walking into the wind with nothing left to show

holding back the tears in the process of letting go

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