15 June 2008
When home is not home anymore
can you go,
would you go.
If there's nothing left.
No one cares,
No one bothers.
There's no more joy, merry or laughter.
Only you thinking to yourself,
all this can be turned around.
Wandering down the dark, quiet street,
by the gloomy moon, it is dimly lit.
Looking down the two leather piece,
moving towards the mist.
but a silhouette.
Sparkling like a crystal,
it rolls down the cheeks, and away.
Helping itself onto the cold hard ground.
The scream, the pain, the suffering,
noone could hear.
as the wind whispers its tale,
passing by the poor little figure.
It's as though evil has the power
that takes away every warmth
that ever exist in her,
leaving only sorrow
seems to be the only thing that appeared.
The trail is endless.
even when the sun is up.
If only time could be stopped,
and the calender is there no more.
Would it stop beating
and the pain will end...