Friday, May 25, 2007


time for me to go
whisper my name...yes, i know.
sometimes the end will bring us hope
of something better that we can grab hold

wrap me in blankets and gently croon
in the park where we danced, where the trees never bloom
under concrete estates where the children are slaves
and they never will feel their hearts break

take my hand it does not shake
for the first time i know i'm not afraid
and remember
all of these words are just words:

now lonely's just a word
now sad is just a word
now pain is just a word
now hurt is just a word