Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Maybe I'll see, there is no best in me.

I'm starting to die inside,
with every lie from which I abide.
Accusations running wild,
wild fires burning dreams to the ground.
Maybe I can see,
there's nothing left of me.

The lost are becoming tempting,
the boss's insecure.
my time with them is decending
into never-ending wars.

Though my feelings scream out loud,
my voice is hushed with fright,
the mound on which I'm standing,
is sinking out of sight.

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