I Hate To Sound....
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Many times I awake at night scared I've lost my breath,
How petrified I have become, the fear of facing death.
The cigarette smoke and careless days have not shaken me,
Maybe I feel invincible, the light I refuse to see.
I enter the funerals of those I've lost, asking myself why?
How quickly we go through life without realizing we die.
I don't want to sound dark but it's the truth, can you face what's real?
I don't want to sound empty but it's my youth, this is how I feel.
Seeing so many exit the doors, did they even know?
What did they feel at that last moment? Where did they go?
A box for them laid out for all to cry amongst themselves,
Another day, another page to put upon a shelf.
The memories and dying dreams, to each I hold inside,
I wonder if they watched me, why I screamed and cried.
I hate to be the pessimist, but that's the way I feel,
to be able to see through the mask and to face what is real.