every day is a war every missed chance a victim every new love a battle every stance a system every time I try every time I lose everybody seems oblivious but I've got you
I mistakenly thought my painfully short rendezvous with my baby was going to be my valentine's celebration, but boy was I mistaken. Champagne and strawberries and cupcakes and good folks can make another night not seem so long. The romance will have to wait for the sun to get high in the sky.
I'll call this my sabbath, a day to rest before the loneliness is lifted. I'll step behind the wheel of another's car, follow my heart to the most gifted young woman I've met in this Hessian daze of hedonism and chastity. I've fled from the safety of the God that forgave me and into the arms of Quixote's romantic (fantasy) quest.
Today a man told me that he had been the victim of an atomic blast. In the ensuing explosion, his bones were ripped from his body. Only with the tragic death of his son, and a post-mortem bone transplant does this man walk with us today. He's a regular representative of the infinite possibilities of life.