Learning How to Fear

It is a very bad world. Where is my love? And where is my resting place? I believe it is true that they dug my grave And buried in it my skin. I am far too cold, And it is a misconception that I am not Merely flesh and blood. I rode my bike over the edge. Together, my ghost and I held hands, As we passed through dogs and cats, All with broken backs, Dead upon the road. Your truck is your life, and you go very fast. And you kill what you want, and you don't care How to come by such a crooked thing. But you do, and it is sad. I get to crying by myself. I think of how the children grow up, And that everybody dies. That sex has nothing to do with the innocence that goes on descending into The deep black hole, Where the devil silently sleeps With one eye open, one eye gone. But it is the absence of youth. Of reliving imagination Of falling into love without caring With the cookies that grandfather fed you, And the spring as it touched the gray leaves. All of this is no longer real. All that is, will never be regained. Because our ways are lost. Our hopes and dreams, have died with the Child, all broken up and dead upon the road. The scariest part of life is not and will never be death No matter how long it takes, through the pain, and See through windows. The scariest part of life is that we will never again regain: Childhood. Home, in a nut shell.. There is a light where my eyes were Blinding the rest of the world. With their screams. Hahaha We laugh until there’s nothing left to cry about. It is the end where we are, It is the end here. Death