so young,
so boastful on so many thousands a year
so damning of others
who have not done the same
with one steady but useless lover

the dark inside
it is taking me away
i think it happens everyday
it must be, in someway

a medicine for the pain
perhaps, a medicine for the sad
be there, with either silver or gold
do not shive and feel so old

it can be so hard to care
a person with flowers
could stand by your body
and we would still be missing hours

they say you are not worth it
not worth the soul you are imprinted on
here it comes again

the insecurity complex
a complex with many floors
many empty rooms
and many strange doors

almost june,
well almost…
but it is the last day
and you are going away

caught saying goodbye to their father
caught staring inside
caught wiping the tears away from their mother

stages on which we play
stages which we go through
stages of things we do
stages of things we say