Where Words Are Silenced

Walking Back To Sanitation

I am sick and tired of hanging out my window to learn from past experiences

You can't make flowers grow

Friends don't stick around

They just go the way the wind blows

When the pain of your mistakes keep you awake

And you Motion to a bottle of answers as you say help me go

You could have been a poet who walked upon the moon.

Would anyone care?

No!

In a few years it won't matter

What's the point?

I mean its easier to let people slip away than it is to say goodbye

So you lay there stranded . . .

reaching out for help but no one is around

You think the answer is to sleep away the demons that take over

But they always come back to haunt you

And by tomorrow you will just go back to walking to sanitation, run a bath and clear off the mess you made before you left it.