Winding roads, seemingly never-ending
Lead through the pain but not toward mending.
Questions unanswered otherwise-
Yield in the maze of compromise.
Hardened hearts and calloused fingertips.
Sarcastic laughs and Freudian slips.
Gesture of a jester, crown of the clowned,
Ashes to ashes, love seemed so renowned.
Dust blinds the eyes, winds howl at the ears.
And still you press on, driven by your fears.
Even daring to laugh at obvious self-distress,
When the only alternative is loneliness.
A kiss on the cheek, the turning of a head.
The coldness of a stranger sharing your bed.
Close your eyes and lie awake through the lies,
Knowing tomorrow another piece of you dies.
Grind away the hours, nurture the needs.
Walk past the flowers to search and sulk in the weeds.
If you ever realize life, itself, is the four leaf clover,
I only pray your life isn't already over.
And so, being young and dipt in folly
I fell in love with melancholy,
But dreams - of those who dream as I,
Aspiringly, are damned, and die: