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2003-06-27 @ 2:12 a.m. How the nightengale's sonnet mocks my lonliness As i lay stretched out beneath the fading azure sky The ebullient melody lulls me into a somber state In which i dream of you The stars wilt to give way to the sarcastic sun Why can't the nocturnal hours wait, stay Their empathetic darkness conceals my dead eyes, lifeless body Scars made by kind blades Bruises left by endless tears Sometimes it scares me how content i am in my sorrow I sleep late to avoid the daylight Put a pillow over my head to drown out the world Maybe i should trade my love affairs with tragedy For flawless smiles, perfect laughs Who cares if my happiness is fabricated, made of plastic? As long as you can see it on the outside Besides, the audience wants a cheerful poem, a joyful verse No matter if it's written in advance and well rehearsed (They're getting restless now, can you hear the murmurs?) And though you can't please everyone I'd like to please someone I wouldn't mind if that person was you But your thirst for beauty and perfection is far too deep for me to satisfy And i'm buried beneath blankets Trapped under the weight of my sadness and the transitioning sky It's too difficult to try But to you and everyone else- Know that i'd like to .Past. Entries.
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