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I don’t need anyone to tell me, what I do is wrong.

I just need someone to show me, what I can do right.

I have a burning feeling of need to sing this song.

So that someone will take notice, and help me with my life.

I’m slipping, and falling further away every day.

And I’m becoming very close friends with a knife.

There really isn’t a lot more for me to say.

I’m convinced I have no reason left to fight…



Carve the name of who you’ve got, in a tree.

I’ll carve the name of who I’ve lost, in my flesh.

My tormented soul, I’ll set it free.

You’re gone now, I’ve got nothing left.

And there’s nothing left to say.

Except, good bye.



I possess the match meant to burn your walls down.

I wish I could see how you handle knowing I’m gone for good.

But I think it goes without saying, I won’t be around.



I possess the match meant to burn your walls down.

Ignited by the fire burning through my veins.

Unleash the blaze with the edge of a friendly blade.

And send it pouring out of my heart, into yours.



I possess the match meant to burn your walls down.

I wish I could see how you handle knowing I’m gone for good.

But I think it goes without saying, I won’t be around.



I’ll burn your walls down.

And then I’ll be on my way.

On my way home, where I belong.

I’ll burn your walls down, from Hell.

From the lips of the mute, to the ears of the deaf.

All, as seen through the eyes of the blind.

You have no excuse, to suffer all this stress.

You’re just too dead to really act alive.

So suffer the abuse, with no way to egress.

And act like you’re perfectly fine on the outside.



You won’t find help if you don’t seek it.

But if you seek it, the truth will find you.

If you’re inclined to ask for honesty.

Then be careful what you wish for.

Because your own hands aren’t devoid of filth.

And neither is your conscience.



In one ear and out the other, goes my advice.

You struggle to keep what I say, behind your eyes.



You speak so strongly, but where is your voice.

Even when I scream, it’s all just noise…

To you.



From the lips of the mute, to the ears of the deaf…

You have no excuse to suffer all this stress…

So suffer the abuse, with no way to egress…



And act like you’re perfectly fine, on the outside.

Your day will come.

My day will come.

The day will come.

We will get what we deserve.

Be careful what you wish for.

COMMENTS

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DestroyingAngel
07:46 Feb 04 2010

Holy god I loved this one!!!!!!!!

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bandnrd
00:58 Feb 07 2010

!!

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widowspeak
05:55 Feb 07 2010

WoooooooooW...OUTSTANDING ...You have a great talent and 177 more poems for me to read.You will be added to my favorite journal list for sure if you do not mind

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