A Solitary Street
The knife of loneliness parts my skin, of course I bleed blue,
My radiance is the color of a Solitary Street I knew,
The words I speak never make it past my own mind,
My echoes on the Solitary Street are the only words I find,
When my words can't be found, all I hear are my tears,
On this Solitary Street my own thoughts are my worst fears,
No one understands me, and that is what I certainly hate,
It seems on this Solitary Street,
I hold the hand of hurtful fate,
In a conversation with me, no one sees any wealth,
But on this Solitary Street,
I don't even want to talk to myself,
For some reason I cannot cry, it makes me confused and befuddled,
But alone on this Solitary Street,
what falls from my eyes creates drowning puddles,
I beg someone please, please open your door,
Do not make me walk down this Solitary Street once more...
