Failings
by Tim S. Flanders (lathus@hotmail.com -or- xfpoems@hotmail.com)
Website: ('Oh, The Things You Will See!')
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NOTE: Unnamed character muses about life,
could be anyone speaking
(most will say it's F.Mulder...
but I favor Cancer-Man myself)
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That's it . . .
You go and wrap that lie around yourself like a warm blanket.
To Hell's the charade, and all that we are lacking,
To Hell --
Again and again,
To Hell and anon.
We never find our peace.
Dead roses that fester,
Our life is all of this.
A futile attempt at happiness,
Forgetting . . .
Losing . . .
Failing in our races,
All of them.
Belonging to no one and nothing,
In the end it is this way.
Ending always, as a reminder of our failures
And of what we could never have.
Bastard liars whispering to us,
And we follow . . . deceived . . . but gladly so.
For always we are this way --
Idiots that have no part,
No place to stay.
We roam . . . always and forever this way.
We are the lost and befuddled masses
Fools always out of time
And we fall...dead,
Forgotten
And alone.
No one to cry at our funerals,
No one to drink at our wakes,
No one to mourn us when we are gone.
Always like this we are,
Alone . . . alone and afraid
That we will never find another to share in
To always be alone.
Fragile faith was never more so.
(
geocities.com/area51/quasar) (
geocities.com/area51)