by C. Parson

Created on: October 07, 2008

Wax Figures

Under an open sky of broken dreams

An angel with black and tattered wings

Whispers of death and morbid things

We as wax figures are molded

Into the vague shapes of human beings

Without all those thoughts and unnecessary feelings

Breath is needed but seldom wanted

Our dreams and our thoughts are always haunted

By sneers and snickers that scarred and taunted

See this world for what it is

A cold, dark place with nothing to give

And it's oh so tragic we have only this life to live

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