When I write.

Through

I try to make it through
I try to reach out to you
You who sees me through the frame
Sees me but is never watching
Watches but is never hearing
Hearing but is never listening
Listening but it's not getting through
What you're going to be up against
So listen when you still can.

Time is ruthless
But it's cruelty is essential
It'll forget you and gradually
You shall disappear.
And if you don't make it,
Nothing will be left of you.
But even if you do,
You'll be able to stay a bit longer
Leave something more for your children
A frame, a memory, and a sense of decay,
Let them know that there's no point.
This frame of time will be snatched away by time,
We'll all wither, we'll all decay,
We'll all fall apart, even as a frame,
So while you still can try to find
Why you're still here, whats the point
Try your hardest to make it through,
Because you if you don't you'll lose it for good.

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