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There Is No TomorrowToday I took my final breath,Today I said my last goodbyes.Today was the last time that I glanced at the sky.I can't say tomorrow because it doesn't exist.I can't say yesterday because it was hardly bliss.Today still meant nothing,At least I got to see it.Tomorrow has been forsaken,I surrendered to this death.My fate has been painted,On a ceiling in an empty room.My fate has been printed,On the pages of a blank book.Today tomorrow means nothing.Today yesterday means living.Today today means taking this life,And saying goodbye.Today I washed myself of the last,Today I watched it all pass.Behind my lids I can see it all,All mapped out and planned to perfection.There is no chance,There is no fighting.I wouldn't lower myself to pleading.There's nothing left,So here's the regret:I spent today wishing,I had tomorrow for today,Wishing I had today for yesterday.I didn't spend my last breath singing.No song can touch this rusted soul.Today is over and tomorrow doe
A Lonely BoyA lonely boy he sitsThere across the room.I watch him,Sitting so still and I wonder,What could he possibly be thinking?He's staring off into nothing,Totally oblivious to my watching.His shoulders are slightly slumped,And he's barely moving.All around us the pointless banter barrels on,Smacking the walls and back to attackMy ears.He's the only one who's sitting all alone,With one exception being me.Now he's watching the clock up high,Placed almost on the cieling.The glaring red numbers blur my visionAnd the time slowly ticks by.Rows of empty wooden chairs surround me,A sea of ghostly emptiness.I shudder,Barely warm in this drafty theater.Under me my chair squeaks,And I tense up.Oh how I hate to be remindedThat I'm really here.The noise in my ears grows louder,And I relax into my darker bliss,My ignorant slumber.Nothing can be rememberedHereIn this restful place,A place that only exists in my head.My mind snaps back to attention.The boy is now staring at
ControlControl.What a funny, make believe word.Do we really expect to have it?Conrol is beyond reason,Beyond hope.There is no such thing as control.As I sit here and ponder this,I watch the people around me,In the drafty echoing auditorium.I sigh and everyone can hear it.My pen scratches the paper so loudlyI might as well be screaming.Is that guy over there glaring at me?Is that a sneer on that girl's face?I shake my head and look down again,And cringe.My pen can't stop making noise.Oh, what the hell stop making the noise!It's so loud now I'm covering my ears,I'm crying.Oh God please make it stop I can't control it.I stop and laugh.Control,What a fake.I drink in the feeling of imagining,Imagining that such a thing exists.I grab the seat in front of me,My knuckles turning white with agony,I'm grinding my teeth with frustration.Why can't I gain control?!It seems so fucking simple and yetHere I sit,Falling apart at the seams.Pieces of me clunk loudly to the floor