It seemed like there was hope for me,
Someone to sit and converse with in the shade of a sycamore tree
It seemed as though maybe I had some type of guarantee
Someone to care
When you are near I feel a light yet powerful heir
When I talk to you the outer hardness of my heart seems to tear
Then like a frozen hand on the back of my warm neck
Like the pain of a vulture’s powerfully sharp peck
Being in a group of friends but being a mere speck
You inform me tomorrow will be, our last day
My hope, suddenly fades, fades deep to gray.
It seems as though all my heart does to me is betray.
I saw a nectar sweet light at the end of my bitter orange rind tunnel
Only to reach for it and have my hands grasp emptiness
And I have it now
