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superjars -> Life of the Party (4/22/2010 17:05:24)
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I'll add more as I write, but here's one to begin. Comments & Criticism happens here.
The End
In the end, when all is dark,
I sit alone in Central Park.
No birds, no bees in the end,
The drifting wind, my only friend.
Seeking peace, we failed the call,
And now we sit, alone and small.
Few people left, in the end,
The blowing wind, my only friend.
How did it end, we do not know,
It happened, oh, so long ago.
The memories lost, in the end,
The rushing wind, my only friend.
And then it stops, the wind grows calm,
It's final touch, a healing balm.
Even the wind, gone in the end,
The silence now my only friend.
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