• ...tick
    ...tock
    ....tick
    ...tock
    Typical, people, as predictable as the sunrise.
    Every occasion pointing out your many flaws.
    Your eyes....cant see
    Your skin.....to soft
    your teeth.....not straight
    your hands....to secretive to be normal.
    And to think we are these god-hated people.
    And yet everyday we come home to lies, torture, and suffering.
    we are unknown beings
    Unknown people
    Unloved souls
    And Garage on the street on Sunday morning.
    "Good morning" they'd say
    "hows about we rip your heart from your ribs" they think.
    Oh woe is me woe is me, bah.
    We just need a way out.
    possibly a way through.
    Away from the....
    the....
    the...
    screaming....scCreAmiIng....SCREAMING!
    but what can we do? Better us? Ourselves?
    and they'll only deprive you of your loves.
    Your Music
    Your Poetry
    Your Pen
    Your Paper
    Your Dogs
    Your Cats
    Your Words
    Your Mighty sword.
    They hide they're disgust of your presence behind painted on smiles....
    "hows about you take out the trash"
    "hows about you get me a beer"
    "hows about you put down your dog"
    "hows about you kill your cat"
    "hows about giving me your kidneys"
    "hows about you leave the cutting to me"
    ......"hows about you take a gun to your soft, fragile skull"
    and we always want to live in the lies.
    Suffer everyday
    Mabey...
    Mabey...
    Mabey grabbing the gun isn't a bad idea
    Mabey its not so bad
    Mabey pulling the trigger wont hurt so bad.
    Well....
    I was right no more hurting....