Another One of Those Days

Looking out my bedroom window, I can only see the happy souls, and the path I bear is the feared, since 20 and only in second gear, I just wish for the butterflies, I can only see in the twilight, caught between there and here, the flowing of and then dried up tears, I don't cry any-more. There once was insight that did delight, but you lose the sight and then the light, all that is left are the little bread-crumbs, to witches house to be burnt alive. And forever-more, Misery has its stakes in a broken heart, fiery sweet eyes make you sleep past mid-day you look at the veins of your wrists and wish to sl........ black-ness of cloud formations, as you look for a way.