though I'm with good company
I can't help but feel so alone
and if asked I couldn't say
of a moment where I didn't know
and own my August unhappiness
the way a dog buries a bone
I try to hide it and not let it show
but I guess like cancer it grows
until it overthrows my warm smile
and for a short while
makes my mood banal
I can disappear in night's darkness
lost in the Island's woods and forest
with no hope as light to guide me out
the only escape from this slope of doubt
seems the tired sleep to which I climb
being stoned and awaiting till in my dreams I find
the homely content of being unconscious
and not having to remember love's solemn silence
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment