Sitting in a window, wishing, wanting and waiting. Its a cold, wet day.
Yet I find warmth in the comfort of my own insecurities. Faint music
plays in the background, I can't help but think how beautiful the rain
is as it falls past the street lights.
The people come and they go, the rain still falls. I wonder again, why
am I here? Its such a cold day, I find shelter is this glass cup of
emotion. The painful memories and the shattered dreams lay out in front of
me like the checker board pattern of the table at which I sit.
Its been real to me and so fake to everyone, I can't adjust to living
with this half heart. Where did my innocence go, where is my passion?
All that remains is a shell. No more are the days filled with joy, all
that remains is the hollow hope of a new day.
I look again, the rain still falls, and the sun still hides.
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