Life is Timeless

Guess these are hard times;

Girl's got her red scarf hanging out the window;

And I'm lost translating ancient hyroglyphics like I have nothing else better to

Do.

The paint's still wet and now my fingers are wooden-white.

Sidewalk walking are my feet in deep December; staring at a dog - viciously

Barking.

And the clouds are mellowing out; spreading like butter on the blue-breaded

sky.

I wonder who I'm supposed to be?

Where should I step now?

How should I - When should I;

How did you?

Wishing my fate were as famous as yours; and I can't taste the snowflakes;

There are none.

I can't see the blood; but she's not bleeding.

And I guess there's good that there's that.

The innocence of not knowing much.

The cruel task of melting into new skin each year;

Shedding is so harsh - the mind was not meant for reform.

The merry-go-round spins slowly in the distance;

As I jumprope my ambitions and hopscotch my decisions;

And play dodgeball with the evils that

Haunt me.

--payne