All alone in this world, wrapped up in a life were no one
wins. Whats the point of the good when its in the same
category as the sins. The battle is pointless, its the war
that never ends.
Sadness creeps in, thoughts changing as the fast as the
direction of the wind. They race around piling one on top of
the other, until you can't separate a new new born baby form
its mother. The cry of paronia hollers so loud, it seems as
if the eyes are placed behind a big black thunder cloud.
Blinded by the haze of a,"good thing gone bad", or maybe the
lack of a parental role that you never had Whatever the
reason, your mind goes crazy trying to but together the
pieces of a puzzle that is shattered all around,leaving
shards of memories scattered on the ground.
Anger is there reaching into the depths of despair, emotions
it will not spare. If you look very closely you will see the
remainder  of a bleeding heart, that used to be me. I went
off to war and got sweeped away by the sea. I no longer know
who I am supposed to be.
All alone in this world, wrapped up in a life were no one
wins. What is the point if the battle never ends.
By: Debra Sloan aka: Godschild