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Why part I |
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Why part II |
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Why part III |
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Miss |
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Simple Corpse Drawn Carriage |
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How Things Change |
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everytime |
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trying to find her |
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one night |
Why part II
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Created on 3-13-08
Slowly being blown awayI am but a speck of sand floating with the dreary breeze. Who am I? Who are you?Are you here to tell me it’s my time?Or are you here to show me the world’s doom?It’s true, isn’t?Truth of seeing how the rain is beginning to seem acidic instead of therapeutic Is it you, or is it me?We’ll see, when this mystery unfoldsTo make history of being cold and turning old. We must find a new holy bookA new path on which we arriveNot to cease being but thriveBecause not only one but all love to feel alive!So listen to the absolute truths of our lives For I will not have defy me because I don’t wish to fall and die My color is not on your spectrumMy light is not of warmth or frostI am but of myself and this my confessionI am not of black, white, blue, or redI am of a color unnamed, unknownWhat are you?Do you label yourself a primary?Breakthrough and blow past the sedimentary But soon enough you realizeThat everything will surely dieSo say adieu, say goodbyeForeverNot just next monthNor till December But for all eternity That’s why I ask these questions nowBefore I do the same as fall leaves do every autumnWhen the cold hits I will fade and rot and turn into a heap of the inevitable So why do ask for another serving of painWhy must we sustain to entertain?Why must we act of rug, always taking the blame?
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