Its almost my birthday

and I would thank you for life

if you had not been so selfish

in our short time

there has been no need for thanks

or consilation

of all my tragedys

your pending death

is of little consiquence

its a broken heart

regardless of what the doctors say

I know this

having burried you already

and in these last days

think

what could I have done diffrently

so you wouldnt have regrets

about your wishes

misery loves compony

but i have learned to suffer alone

when you proved

you really cant go home

I think how silly it all really is

and how much I have grown into stone

from the molten magma that made me

like two buildings buckling

on final impact

and a thousend tears

for every life lost

and Im at the cross roads

dry as the red clay

six years to the day

when i decided nothing was guided

and it was all suprise attacks

I have not blamed anyone

we all play our parts

before it falls apart