I've laid to rest the son, the boy
For who is left is paranoid
Afraid of death, always aware
Through visions that the end is near
I look in the eyes of the son
That once was here and now is gone
Castle of pride, replaced with guilt
Overwhelmed, destroyed what was built
A shallow grave is what they say
But deep within the spirit lays
Beneath the chaos that resides
Inside a soul numb, without pride
The mask I wear is old and dead
But disillusioning instead
The clown that smiles, hides dark secrets
That drains one of peace that depletes
With every memory of what was
Reminded daily one's the cause
I encase the limp corpse of youth
behind a smile that traps the truth
Copyright © 2010 Anthony Phillips (DUNTEE)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment