When it is too late to think of what you've left behind... |
Not Forgotten by Cursed Who is there to love, who is worth loving? Life’s a tape on fast-forward. As time passes, we die as we’re born, Nothing left to be seen or heard. When the past haunts and the future distresses The present withers away. When all three times stand ignored What’s left is love, they say. I grow infuriated, not able to feel The emotion which most express. The greatest joy in all the world Flutters in your hearts, possessed. Am I trapped inside the box, Or am I the one who’s free? Those who say I’m missing out Are staring down at me. Days diminish to nightfall Before I ever knew what passed. Anything that is dependable Will never stand to last. Pain breaks way to emptiness But no one left will refill You want things done, you do it yourself, And with this flame, I will. I let the fume replete my lungs I let my soul take flight Before the darkness overcomes There is a flash of white. In that brief, eternal instant I view the headstone as it lies Beneath the many colored flowers, That rest below the tearful eyes. A girl will sit and trace her finger Across the carved words thereof, “Here Lies A True Big Brother The Only Man I’ll Ever Love.” |