Where ya goin' little boy?
I thought I knew you,
least I used to.
Goin' out again my boy?
Well I see through you,
deep into you.
Speaking only lies that you tell everyone are true.
The only one believing them my little boy is you.
Can't you see that you are slipping?
Can't you see?
Why can't you see?
Look into the mirror.
Is this what you want to be?
Where are ya little boy?
I think I lost you,
simply tossed you.
Is the emptiness you feel
well worth the price that it has cost you?
Can't you feel that you are falling?
Can't you feel?
Why can't you feel?
Look into the mirror.
Tell me what you think is real.
The world has turned away from you
and left you here to die.
And all that you can do is sit alone
and wonder why.
The answer though, I think you know
if you would just admit it.
The answer that you seek my boy
is you're the one who did it.
Copyright 2004 Ken Ashby
Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.
Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/7088/45674 on Friday September 05th, 2008 12:07 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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