Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 6, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

02-06-04 friday 9:17pm brick NJ

keep searching, but there are no songs that know who i am. how i've lived. keep trying, but there is no combination of words that express.

friends speak softly and don't carry a big stick. but i write loudly and all too accurate. friends speak softly and for their own reasons. with love in their heart and reasons in their mind. whatever good they found in me was in short supply. whatever reasosn they had to call, like a sad sad song, eventually it did subside.

i haven't any answer. havne't any question. i only have this solitude. the only constant. i only have these tears. because a long time ago alone was fine, but so many years have happened since then. a long time ago alone never mattered at all, but a long time ago i was still young and there was still time enough to be loved.