Things Often Disappear

Oh the knowledge
That things often disappear
And leave you all forever
Without time for a tear

And shed symbolic meaning
Leaving you all to yourself
Trying not to think of matters
Lay them solemnly on shelves

Is the knowledge that all you love
Has no meaning when you're this
This mess of pent up feelings
Of sharp comments, and false bliss

But still the world keeps changing
So fast you cannot blink
But no one's there to tell you why
You are just left to think

And when you think you start to see
Start to open up some vault
You can't close it, for now you see
This mess is all your fault

You hate the face that often
Cries silently in the mirror
And rue that evil knowledge
That things often disappear