• Seeing time tick away.
    I think of you.
    Is it the end of the day?

    I think about how tables have turned.
    I still have scars from being so burned.
    All that you have said...

    Don't think you
    can make it okay,
    by saying "hey."

    Whisking around debree,
    I come after,
    By the gentle breeze.

    I think that I am very late,
    yet I've waited for my fate.
    Can it be the end of the day?

    Don't think you,
    killed me now,
    by asking "how."

    Say your sorry by the end of the day.
    As we start out new blank page.

    Love me, hate me,
    hold me, aviod me.
    Who should I be?

    Fantsy, reality
    daydream, nightmare.
    How long do I bleed?

    Don't think you,
    are sorry yet.
    Its the end of the day...