For now this shallow grin means nothing
Vacant as I've found that exceptions too run away

What good are words
When you don't know what is meant?
And what good are memories
Of times we never spent?
What good is ink
When the written cannot be said?
And what good is life
When you wish that you were dead?

Dead
Suburban swings now hang so still since that night
That night...if only

Five days without sunlight
Without sunshine
The walls tend to come alive
Taunt you and your greying flesh
Water will not take the stench away

Shut your mouth now, and say nothing
As your breath dooms the doves to fall limp from the sky
Shut your eyes now, quiet child
As your bar codes are being exposed
To see this breath, this steam
In the December air
To see this look of endless compassion
To lie to you
Cry to you