by Mitchell Beanland

Created on: April 03, 2009

The rain falls down, on our weary heads.

Our bones ache from being stuck in bed.

We are forced to grow up before our time.

Growing pain, echo knowledge forced in minds.

We wait until rains ease, hidden under the sheets.

So long we've waited, rainsoaked hearts drenched.

Submerged in misery's depths,

with baited breath, and fists clenched.

If home is where the heart is,

We've all been lost so far from there.

Lost in the yesterdays, faded as one.

No motives of change, under this lonely sun.

A sun not that brings sight, but vision still plagued,

by a bleak path, ever straight,

this is illfates parade.

I am alone, the difference is in me.

purpose in mind, head heavy in hands.

This is where the heartache ends.

I've always decided who I wanted to be,

It was only change that proceeded me.

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