Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Your Life.

I am alive.
I'm sitting here in a little coffee shop in the back corner,
earphones in, music playing, drink, suitcase sized purse and cell phone next to me.

I'm a one man band.
Everything I want beside or in front of me.
None of this matters tho.
Because I am completely and utterly at a loss.

I hate having all of these things honestly.
Everything I need right here.
Let me work for something, suffer for a moment because I am in lack.
But no, I was born in America.
A lil white girl born in the west, now living a thousand miles away from home.

Someone tell me this is all going to end soon.
Life can't just be 80 years.
I have to have more then this.
With all this stuff and things I am suffering for more.

Don't tell me I'm crazy.
Don't tell me I need to get a grip.
You don't know me.
You don't know my struggles.
Which in reality should be yours as well.
Except you are just too blind to see you're headed to the slaughter
along with the rest of them.
Don't give me sympathy.
I'm more sorry for you.

God didn't place you here to go thru the motions.
To try and build your own empire.
To sit and drink and watch the tube while they get more clever
with new deceptions to drag you in deeper and deeper until you wake up in hell
wondering where 'next Sunday' went.

Time is so short.
You are fading away.
What are you doing?
What are you saying?
Is anyone even listening?
People are watching.
He's waiting.

still waiting....