All the poems are my thoughts and feelings either ones i have or of ones i remember. |
The waking fears pass the hour,
cloaked in their scarlett haze...
An un-shown face and twisted letter,
Leading down a darkened hall...
Life’s a pity, life’s a pain,
were players in this fateful game...
A name taken from existence,
to hide a persons given face...
The morning breaks on snowed in streets,
the first light with my window meets...
In our heads we live, |
Oh you out there |
They were right all along. Life is a game. There are a few winners and a hell of alot of losers. |