(no subject)

[mistersykes]

all of our memories collide at night.
at the bash we begin to crash.
fun, not famine, our desolate masks -
why should we pretend that all is all right?

as ages age, we turn the pages - 
as our insides die, our still blinded eyes
give a wink to the creatures outside,
and a manmade world continues its rage.

its getting stale.

please
give us good thoughts and
things we will miss.