How The Day Ends
Poem By Kevyn Whitehead
Ahh, here comes the time of day,
where there's nothing to except weap in sorrow.
As the day comes to an end,
my life fills with pain and sorrow.
You added fuel to the fire,
like a log in a wood stove.
Now my soul burns with darkness,
there is nothing to do now my heart burns.
Now my heart burns with this passion,
but this passion is just a mear image.
The image can't be true cause I am me,
I am me which is he who never finds love.
But what is love just a mear image,
or is love somthing you feel.
Love maybe both cause love is never real,
it's just a figment of our imagination.
That is how the day ends,
each and every night I sit and cry.
I cry till my eyes close shut,
I cry till my feelings are gone.