Sunday, January 15, 2006


Hey you...
I've seen you outside and felt the cold air hit you in the face,
as you ran, no distance changed between where you were and where you need to be.
Back to the old ways for an old illness and do please weedout that nasty root,
do please reach and don't stop this time, as the road is before you but you don't want to take.
Won't you fly like a free bird?
Where is your head I placed so long ago?
Because the tear you shed is only your caged reflection.
Has the gravity of your memories worn you out?
Hey, wake up!

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