Here I stand.
It's the same routine.
Here I cry .
Growing worry of the sound of my screams.
Here I am in the moonlit light.
Here I write .
Feelings longing to express my pain.
But who here would ever understand.
The feelings in my recitations?
Here I write.
For what I do I do best.
Talent are renewed far and wide.
I excel without out ever even trying.
But I don't feel alive.
Alone ever night.
Shedding all my tears.
Wishing for some one to be near.
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Copyright 2007 By: Richard Tyree
