GSM ( / )

Dry Tears

to each his own where you own everything
with noone to share and noone to blame
the art of loneliness perfected by the day
in a world that you privately stay

denying voices from the past
invading words of love, devotion
that shot through drowning consciousness
that no longer exist in one's groan

what is there to keep
when you've thrown what was worth keeping?
why do you feel sorry
when you have caused your own weeping?

forget redoing yesterday
life simply does not work that way
hope for the chance of tomorrow
and hope it longs for come what may

(1500hr - 12081999, Albetz Garden, door15)

by Gwen S M Torres

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