Dear, I have known nothing

of lifes certain pulls

but what I'm left with

is where some feel full

it's sad in a way

when i find this day

I know you hate when i have this to say

but the honest truth

I will not display






falls slowly

over the edge

no one can catch it

this knife is wedged


between my mind

my hands hold tight

to gasping men

who need to fight

for some perfection

that goes untouched

it's lifes perception

of such and such


death crawls more near

death is mans fear

life unfolds here

things untold clear

my hands are cold,dear