Life’s a line,
One you hold in the palm of your hand.
Life’s the shine,
The windowed reflection in your eye.
Life’s the grime,
The rubbish so casually tossed,

Like the time that was lost,
While you sat and prayed.
Your fingers were crossed, As my lifeline decayed.

Cause your,
Contemplation, Leads to,
Complications, Parallel the,
Conversations,
That end in,
Condemnation.

Hope’s a game,
One I lose no matter how good my hand.
Hope’s the shame,
The point where I can’t look you in the eye.
Hope’s the same,
As the rubbish, casually tossed,

Like the time that was lost,
While you sat and prayed.
Your fingers were crossed,
And my strands of hope frayed.

Cause your,
Indecision,
Leads to,
Self-incisions,
Parallels the,
Senseless visions,
That end in,
Hate, division.

My life’s hope in the garbage.
So stop praying for me.