Just a collection of what's currently going through my head.

They put us up on roof tops and hung us dry.
They showed us how our life might, and could be destroyed by the snap of a finger.


You promised me that you would take me out one of these nights.
You promised me that you would pull the moon down from the sky for me.
You promised me roses and cameos on the night you left.
I haven't seen you since, nor have you lived up to these promises.


"Kid, you've lost all hope. I mean look at yourself. You're a bloody mess! That's what you are, and all you'll ever be to anyone. You're never gonna change kid, I mean face it. The fact is true and right. And you're going to have to face it! You have no purpose anymore in the world. You're just simply a waste of space, time, air, and life. Yes, that's what you are - a waste. However you're a damn good looking waste if I'd say so myself."


Do you recall those summer nights in Spain,
Those summer nights when we would sit out on the terrace and just talk and talk and talk. So on and so fourth.
Do you remember when those beautiful winter days seemed so endless?
When the sun was setting and there was the beautiful array of colors dancing upon the pastel blue of the sky.
But sometimes, the clouds were dark then.

He's got those eyes.
Those eyes that dart back and fourth when he's nervous.
He's got those looks, those gorgeous looks.
And he's got that wonderful wit.


The day's are laid out upon the table.
They play on like a play by Shakespeare.
The morning, first is dark.
Then it warms up to a blue, going from dark to light.
And how it plays with such colors upon the waking sky.
Making you wish you were at home again.
Then comes the afternoon, sweet and full of bliss.
It's more so the most boring part of the day.
But it is when you write me those letters from your far away home that I cherish so.
And it is when the day is at it's highest point.
Then of course, there comes dusk which leads into the darkened night.
Sometimes the sky will light up like a fire.
Other time's it will just pass on through with it's gorgeous colors.
This part of the day most fascinates you the most of course.
It fascinates you in a way no Shakespeare play ever could, even though you love him so.
Then the very last part,
The end of the day.
And it is at this point and time where you feel as if you've lost complete sanity.


You shaded the picture,
Outlined the words,
Described it in detail.
You explained how one day,
How one day this would end.
Oh but how, how I wish it truly wouldn't.