Reflecting backward in my past
I find good moments rarely last
before you're forced back into pain
left standing all alone in pouring rain
That innocence is always corrupted
your happiness stays interrupted
everyone but you gets their way
which is most often to ruin your day
That you're never really young
your always old enough to have pain begun
And never should you try to talk
or you'll be forced the dead man's walk
But would that really be so bad
if you were always glad
that every little while
there was something to make smile
If there was always someone there
to talk to you, to show you care
I don't think it would be so terrible
not when so-called life is hardly bearable
If joy was there after you die
if on purpose I did, with my past, who'll ask why
All who knew me would stare at me, the stars
and wish they too had no more wars.