Old Friend

I feel deaths cold hand, remove my heart
I sit back in an empty room. Starring at what I have lost
The one who's heart I have missed for so long has returned
I would smile in her direction, but do not wish her harm
I never thanked her for her caring words, and thoughtful deeds

I am not capable of being what you envision
I still sit in empty rooms crying without need
I still lie in bed staring at a blank wall and see my destiny
In the months since we last spoke I have died many times
I am so sick of the fear, so sick of the doubt
I wish I was more like you, I wish I was alive
Everything changes except the asylum and it's lone inmate

© 1998, William R. Craft, Jr. All Rights Reserved