My heart beats to the tune of death,
A disease too long inside of me.
Piece by piece I’m sifting away,
Into a hypnotic melody.
I rock back and forth to the unison,
Of my tears slowly seeping out.
My mind is yelling screams,
But my voice refuses to shout.
This disease feeds beneath my skin,
It’s working beneath a translucent shell.
I’m lost in a cold, lifeless eternity,
Neither in heaven nor hell.
If only the world were as I picture it,
Through another forgotten teen’s eyes.
A perfect little universe;
A world where no child cries.
Other’s happiness is found within my pain,
A stinging which has forever resided in my heart.
Only in this selfish land,
Would people tear each other apart.
One day to the next, we waste the world away,
In our crude robotic form.
So many dire, desperate tears,
Lost in their own forgotten storm.
In this malady we have called life,
We have lost all passion for love.
Our only thoughts are lonesome and weary,
As we reach out to the nothing above.
One day we shall feel for love,
In a world where children cry no more.
Greater than the restrictions of our eternity,
We shall spread our wings and soar.
-Megan Schroeder
February 21, 2005
To Lauren and thyself,
Who need to comprehend
love in it’s simplest form,
Love.
