I got tired of the devil knock..knock..knocking on my door so i gave him a key. My friends say he’s a bad influence on me, but i think he wasn’t an influence at all, it was through the perception of man that i would fall, into a deep dark abyss in which there was no coming back from, so all those classes i ditched it wasn’t class i was running from..it was reality itself... it was a cry for help so...

I look up at the sky
then look down at the floor
then look back up at the sky
so i can dream some more

makeup excuses
tying to stall
but times just an illusion
that’s captured us all

Some stories have happy endings, well not sure if this is one. By the time i had realized that i should be running to not from, there was no where and no one, not the father or the son. So i close my eyes and they open i in visualize the ties i had broken, between friends, family and myself. I open them 'cause i can’t   stand the horror, blinded in the light and its over..

I look up at the sky
then look down at the floor
then look up at the sky
so i can dream some more

make up excuses
trying to stall
but times just and illusion
that’s captured us all

becoming what i hate, hating what I’ve become. Grew up fast no time for fun, but this isn’t about me or my past, this is for we and our future 'cause generally we’re all sipping tea and ignoring realty and don’t say this is irrelevant because you’re doing it now, look past the picture and don’t ask me how. Break  the frame that’s been made for you cause you should decide on the shape and the size, and don’t eat those lies with that sorrow sauce, and let no one lead you when you’re not lost.

And so we look up at the sky
then look down at the floor
then look up at the sky
so we can dream some more

Stop making excuses
Stop trying to stall
capture time
before it captures us all

Back to the story so what did we miss? No longer alone and escaped the abyss, made some friends and they gave me a lift, and on the other side was a family I’ve missed. I guess that this story has it’s ups and downs, but why must stories end and the nightmares begin? I don’t want to sleep even if i have dreams, now and then. You tell me goodnight but you can see my thoughts, there written in red ink on that oh so round face of mine, and you know you’re cheap lies wont be bought. So i through out the cross and gave away the books, gave a look to my world which had just been shook... but that’s not a bad thing... because we all know things are easier to find when the room is messy, but what am i looking for? My soul my soul, it has just been stripped, my soul my soul, but who went off with it, i have no clues, so to whomever, i thank, for making this page less blank.