uncontrol

Restless and uneasy,
watching daylight fade
while others find sleep
amongst sleepless nights,
and we left awake to ponderings
of why we don't belong here.

In search of candles for light
to light words among pages
to give us the answers
we so desperately seek,
and longing for arms
to desperately hold us.

Secrets are evil
and bind us to duties
that were never our own.
Taking flowers from unguarded gardens
for the takers of givers
until the taking is done.

Wanderless wonder
of what we could share
and defeat what they tell us,
writing backward in script,
observing the cures
for society's pain.

Gluttony of stars painted and faint
for nights we will always take for granted.
Tombstones only make efforts to remind us
that we are merely forgotten.
Occassional flowers dawn the spirit,
but ignore the war within.

Hours spin recklessly
as seconds for present.
Generations of lonely
mingling in masses,
always alone minus moments
of inclusion and distraction.

We'll remain and remind ourselves
of moonlit trails
and teenage tendancies
and fluttering hearts
and drunken nights
and good times spent.

And then there are those things
we'll fight to forget.
Our temporary fixes
of bad hair cuts and cheap suits,
cheap flowers,
cheap happiness.

Cheap pens still put the words on paper.