the field across the pond

sometimes at night

when I look at the sky

I remember what was said

it never left me

I'm dead

and you're just a memory

caught up in all of my wasted,

strung-out dreams

waiting to sing

wanting to scream

to think

to be

to leave

as I lay down

in the field where the stars fell

out of my eyes

it's too late to cry

could I pick them up if I tried?

no, it's better just to let them rest

beside my body

it's cold out there

and the grass isn't as green

as it used to be