I hear your voice reverberate
Captured on crumbling acetate...
Your down in the dumps
stuck in the slumps...
It's sad that I raise my voice
in a room raised by four...
I'm sorry
I guess I should be honest...
Ive been away for about ten years
I ran away because my dad I feared...
I am not sane
I do not feel me...
I take a walk outside
out in the rain...
I think I wrote you
too many poems...
Abandoned by the doubtful strength, left to hide...
The music rages on like a freight train through...
And so,
another poem...
Songs long since set aside,
With stained-glass lies revealed...
I am crying
and the tears keep flowing...