you disregard the signs
the emotions and the words
blow past the fine line
between here and too far.
so why do I think its time
doesn't the door look so appealing
amended never by word or rhyme
both a problem and a solution.
no matter how many pictures
with a torn edge down the middle
smeared ink that this page endured
doesn't change things still
fist sized holes, because I'm immature,
in the wall that never happened.
does it make me an entrepreneur
because I give out sadness?
Never Mr right only wrong
what to do, what to do
just take a deep breathe and move on
is the small hand on the twelve yet?
because the lighter hours are forgone
Just darkness and confusion
all we've got to look upon