Voices
[A/N: Yayzy. Depressing poetry. What else is new? Not sure who's POV, tho.]
It's the meaningless song that's in your head,
It's the voice that croons of the long gone dead,
It's the tears that you never had time to shed,
It's the wail of the sirens and the things that you said.
It's there in the way you walk your paths,
It's there in the way you learn the cold hard math,
It's there in the way you watch the souls on the rack,
It's there in the way you beg the clock to turn back.
You run the empty streets at night,
You run with the hot tears blinding your sight,
You spin and you scream at the truth - so false it seems,
You spin and scream at your evaporating dreams.
And if I told you what I knew,
And if I told you that it was true,
And if I saw that love in your eyes,
And I saw your childhood die . . . .
[A/N: Well? Liked it, loved it, hated it? Send any and all replies to me at anifuture@hotmail.com. And take a look at my webpage, at http://anifuture.hypermart.net.]