Made: Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The sand flows through the hourglass,
As time moves on and on,
Don't even try to make it last,
Before you know, it will be gone.
He reaches outward desperately,
In hopes of finding stable hands,
But his voice yells a silent plea,
To hear, only shadows can.
His memories burst through the surface,
As he sees the monster in the mirror,
Into the glass flies his fist,
Denial—all he knows is his own fear.
His family and many friends,
Were shocked to see the truth,
But it was shown beginning to end,
They saw blind lies and spoofs.
He curled tightly into himself,
Crying himself to nightmare land,
Ragged breaths he could do without,
Along with nervous, bloody hands.
He knows the crime he did commit,
Murder in his cold, cruel heart,
With only rage to him assist,
Tearing his snapped mind apart.
When they come to take him away,
To hide him from the world,
Just another whose part incorrectly played,
So a coverup in made for seems unfurled.
He stares past the faces in the crowd
Not understanding his cause for sin
The voices in his head agree, loud
That he would do it all again.