The clock strikes twelve again
But I'd just like to say
I'm sorry to all my friends
I don't mean to push you away
I guess some days I seem to be more prone
To laying on my floor
And being alone
I am so alone
I don't know where to go
My friends all left me behind, blind
To sit around and mope
But when they ran they took my hope
Now it's 1 am again
And the voice in my head
Is deciding with my heart
That I'd be better dead
But I just don't wanna know
And I don't wanna be alone
But I am so alone
I don't know where to go
My friends all left me behind, blind
To sit around and mope
But when they ran they took my hope
It's two am my friends
My night is coming to an end
I did believe in love
But only for a while
Sometimes I can act like such a child
Even though I know
That I'm not alone
I can't help but fear that I haven't grown
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
PoetryMetanoia: [Noun] Change in one's way of life resulting from penitence or spiritual conversion. Poems, songs, and the occasional letter.
