but in the end it doesn't even matter, and the piano plays, and God takes notes, on a life that is painful and full of pain, someone misunderstood and words taken the wrong way, all because he wants to sleep, and wants to stay awake, and wants to love, and never be in pain, and he wants no stress, and he wants a life, but life is nothing and broken, and empty seems reused, like recycled paper that doesn't have any substance to it, he sees red and wants to know why because he hurts, and is hurt, and always hurts, and makes people angry, but he wants his own niche his own niche his......own......niche. a place in the wall for a fist to land, implanted in plaster he sees sparkles, the colors burst before his eyes a personal fireworks display, and he is so angry for what reason what reason? he doesn't know his anger anymore and he doesn't know where he will go he just knows that life will remain empty until the river of his anger has flowered completely dry and empty completely still until the dust rises when the wind brushes the bed until his heart is content and life lies ahead until goals can be looked for and someday achieved he finds peace in sadness defying thee and God hopes peace I know he does reckoned upon his heart so scarred and burned maybe he will and maybe he won't maybe he will just find darkness beyond that the dry streambed stretches on forever and maybe he will walk into destiny disheveled with his hair in dissarry arm and arm with Satan into the lake of fire that ends all things but no one knows but God himself and no one cries but self-pity for self and misery oh misery this hallowed being takes into consideration that this meager soul could be alone and alone and always alone but the song is the same no matter how long: a place in the wall for a bullet to be buried nothing is lost what could Never be carried...... 2-23-2004