Failure Runs In The Family

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

So we lay out in the streets like whales washed up on the sand
And believe the fairy tales from mom and dad

You'll be a doctor or something, they said
At night they kneeled next to the bed
And prayed to the man who wasn't there
To look upon you and take care
And make you better than what they've achieved
Because a middle aged failure isn't what they planned to be

I need to finish writing this.


AlmostWhatIWant said...

And I play my wrists like violins
Tears rolling down my lover's chin
I make sweet notes of agony
And like dead roses you're done with me

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