Shattered pieces.

Words can’t escape from my head.

Sometimes I think it might be better off dead.

It doesn’t considerate much at all.

I tend to blame it all . . . on the fall.

Maybe I’m just a bit naive.

Or perhaps I simply self deceive.

Round and round the matters flow.

But doesn’t matter where they all go?

I’m terrified of a sound.

Shadows follow me all around.

Wherever I go there they are.

Is there such a place as too far?

Tempered thoughts slash to the core.

They remind of things that were no more.

Angry letters in a row.

All I really ever can do is put on a picture show.

It’s much too late for sorry now.

The deed I’ve done has been written down.

Damaged cells in my mind.

Added to the others so easy to find.

It’s easy to forget, when you have no need for a net. Then you fall you shatter to pieces, because your guard was let down and your defense ceases.

Ronovan

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