Walking through the haze, yet i can barely see, <br />i cant find you, and i cant see me, <br />you regret the day when i found, the hole in the ground, <br />you told me lies, and lead me round and round, <br />the bright skys turn to grey, and the rain starts to fall, <br />and acid'y taste, eats through the skin on my skull, <br />The supports that held me, were removed, <br />my life as i knew it, will not be renewed, <br />I LONG FOR, WHAT YOU GAVE, <br />I LONG FOR, HOW YOU BEHAVED, <br />I LONG FOR, WHAT WE HAVE MADE, <br />I LONG FOR, THE HOLE YOU DUG, MY GRAVE, <br />We talked about going places, what comes to mind is chicago, <br />So i raise the middle finger, and the index finger follows, <br />Doing some scanless crap, that was uncalled for, <br />i can see you don't want me, and you want more, <br />it should be easy to undock, and sail my ship away, <br />but the rough seas, and my memories keep me at bay, <br />Just take a monkey wrench, and fix this sence of pain, <br />or just take a numbing needle, and stick it in my vein, <br />i should just turn around, walk away and let it be, <br />so this way, i can leave with at least a bit of sanity?<br /><br />Matthew Boisjolie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blinders-3/
