Where are the poems, where is the love?
I write like I miss someone from the heart,
Like I’m all alone sitting in the dark,
Listening to music that reminds me of you,
With the tears rolling down my face like the grass and the dew.
There is no truth to how I feel,
That’s all it is, another plated meal,
The sounds I hear from all the people around,
ME, they aren’t warm like YOU.
There is no person, nobody, no one,
I’m still looking into some song,
To feel, to be alive,
While I sit in this God-for-saken dive.
Where are you, my moment, my tone, my love,
I know you’re out there, living my life,
Why aren’t you here, as my trouble and strife,
Love, what does this mean, Love, where have you been.
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