Friday, June 17, 2005

Not Much of Anything.

I am standing at the edge of changing seasons
waiting for a reason
for all this clinging madness that's appeared
I am gazing through the window wondering
what has happened, becuase something's different
now the smoke's cleared

somehow I'm somewhere that's nowhere at all
and all you see is the new day
But all that I truly desire is an answer
to this question colored gray

Is it me?
Has this journey changed me?
It can't be that affecting
Could it be that this window's but a mirror
and all that's seen is your laughter reflecting?
I tap the glass before I flee
Am I already a memory?
you smile and wave but still ignore
and all I wanted was an open door...

What a weird night.


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