A mind filled with mayhem,
The eyes have met destruction,
And everyday feels the same,
Nothing feeling right,
Nothing making sense anymore,
Everyone's made of stone,
He takes his daughter's hand,
Light tissues,
Her broken dreams,
Plastic tears,
The halo glow above her eyes,
But her arm is torn to pieces.
Wait for me,
This is not where I belong,
I'm not perfect,
But neither are you.
The stool
Where she sits all day,
Opening her eyes to disorder,
Nothing feels the same when she appears,
Plastic tears,
Hollow point,
Empty thoughts,
Shattered vase,
Tainted eyes,
We fear dying,
We fear looking forward,
We fear moving on.
Wait for me,
Is this what I'm supposed to be?
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