No pain like the present,
no sarrow quite like the past.
Future wide in front of me,
Yet all i see is the past.
The future though it's out there,
is very grim indeed.
Darkened dreams, broken hearts,
and much too many of these.
The past is pain, relived again,
the memories conjure hell.
To think of them brings misery,
a feeling known too well.
The present resembles the sins of the past,
bleak and uninvoking.
No room for success, with the pain in excess,
the feeling is that of choking.
I've lost all hope, all sanity,
and death temps me every day.
to much a puss to pull the trigger,
so I live another day.
I die inside a little more,
the pain is just too much.
Future, present and past,
thanks for nothing.