When its quarter to four in the morning, you always seem to think of the weirdest things.  I hate not being able to sleep. When things weigh heavy on your mind, you tend to lose your rythm. My Rythm is shot. Its march 2, 2004 and I am publishing this in late February. Its not very good... but I would like to keep it none the less.

Quiet is the word of the lonely
when all is calm, all is usually empty.
There is no pun nor any adjective
to describe the emptiness that lives here.

The soft padding of the cats
is such a soft and quiet sound.
But seems like a stampede
in a house of wasted years.

Over the many years of pain
I have accepted this darkness.
It was a choice with only one outcome.
The acceptance or the fall to the depth.

The sadness and quiet you may think
is that of complete depression and loneliness.
But it saves you from the blinding pain
of the love that was lost to you.

They say that love is blind
and that could be so well and true.
But pain has no vision either
for its turmoils hit hard too.

I have given up on love
it does not exist for me, never has.
I am just Love's Little Lie
Toying with my heart....