Untitled
Time stands still,
The hour glass stops,
Grains of sand will no longer fall,
Water droplets will forever freeze,
Through the meaningless haze we call our souls.
Our minds work hard,
Watching the solemn charades we call lives,
Hoping,
Waiting,
Trying to create a day in which we can find inner peace.
Our souls deepen,
Trying to find hope,
Something to quench its thirst,
Parody fills us as we realize there is no such thing.
The whole concept of life,
Meaningless lies,
Breaking hearts,
Missing pieces,
Today and tomorrow shall be forever be thoughtless.
Copyright © Trista Whaley | Year Posted 2005
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