What is life worth
When every dream goes sour
Like a glass of milk left in a fridge
That grows tainted over time
And to whom do I cry
When life leads me astray
Like a dog with no home
No one to turn to
No one to love me
And yet I cry
For only through tears may I find justification
Without them nothing makes sense
Even when I don’t know what’s behind them
And like the stray dog I wander
In search of what I think could be
A place in which he can call home
A person in which I find me
©2003 James Shearer
Copyright 2003 James Shearer
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/2055/14906 on Sunday September 07th, 2008 10:24 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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