Life is plum, But not ready for the next beath.
Fingers are numb, But have the Feel of a black death.
Cold smoking metal, that once held 24 hollow heads.
That my killer left in my hand, illusion of suicide in my marrage bed.
Likley to see the next morning, not doubting a thing.
Awake to my mothers smell, and her voice when she sings.
Hear the wind chime as it goes through my ears.
And listen to life being borne, At that moment you have bottled tears.
But i dont need any of that to get my head clear.
I just put my head phones on, and listen away all my fears.
Walk down the road, taking a breath after a breath.
Turn and look between buildings, and See life after death.
There are eyes everywere, so your being watched by the minute.
The man was noticed by all, memorized by the time he was finished.
Police search and searched and found this man, but this deceived there eyes.
He had killed himself during the hunt down, next the body of his wife.
Taste my morning breakfast, everyday before school.
Mother was there to eat with me, food was warm, water was cool.
I was then learning when my teacher pulled up beside me.
She whispered something about my mom, all i could hear was dying.
Then cried histerically, qeustions being blured out by my classmates.
Rushed to the hospital, looked at her face but i was a minute too late.
Now i still remember her cooking every morning, i know she still roams.
But i taste tears on and on, as i eat alone.
Amazing grase, play it and pray every day, to God i deliver it.
I then Smell the way of blowing wind, leaves following after it.
Fresh cut grass, and laughter all around, kids jumping rope for fun.
Sitting and watching them outside, nose over my coffee mug.
Then a women comes outside, weakens all my powers.
As beutiful as any model, as she watered and smeeled her flowers.
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