Friday, February 12, 2010

When the lights go red

The dream of never be
the light i never see
life will i live or lie to myself
dreams aside in a shelf;

Broken pieces like shattered glass
all over my soul, bleed
there's a silence in my heart
and the sounds breed
a notion of motionless surround,
like dark flakes of snow
in a winter my life has seen
searched but never found
the truth behind the charade;

the dream that i once was
in my sleep at night
has no sense of direction
nor of any fight
living was easier when i hated my life

thoughts i hear but can't say
sounds of freedom scream a way
choose it we may not, now
twenty years hence, as i lay
when i look back at today
wonder what i would say
did I do it my way?