Toys

All good things have an end.

Making you wish you had a friend.

You can feel yourself ready to bend,

For there is nothing left to lend.

Darkness fills the sky.

Making you crash form the high.

All you can ever do is try,

Even when you know you will cry.

Sometimes there is nothing to gain.

For life is such a strian.

Your heart is filled with pain.

For you don't feel sane. 

Every now and again,

You will  have to give in.

As I haev with this pen.

It ought to be a sin.

All light has gone,

Even in the dawn.

Your last breath is drawn,

For you are just another pawn.

You'll never have a chioce.

And no one will ever hear your voice.

Never again will you rejoice.

For all we are is a bunch of toys.