Voices of the Unheard

Polite folly - The opening Act

{Polite folly}

Across the table i reclaim my seat.

Devoured by petty short-comings my cup is almost never full.

Yet i continue to drink.

Maybe then i will be much more easier to digest...

Please excuse my table manners.

For i seem to have lost my sense of accountability.

Why must the "good-guy" always finish last?

Are jerks really that much more appealing? 

These questions i hold are nothing more then rambling..

Nothing more than pure weight added to my shoulders..

Expecting the outcome to lead me to a better sense of maturity..

How utterly sadistic... 

For I didn't expect such heartache..

Crying usually solves my problems..

But what happens when you can't cry any longer?

And your only companion is the rain itself?

- Mello Sakia