The Last Mile – 3/1/01

With the road stretched out like patience
one by one the daggers find homes in my side
as the objects gets smaller and faster
it becomes all too clear there is no place to hide
Questions are asked without ever being answered
as the puppets are given brains but no mind
to understand the pain
The blood and the pain, still no answer I find
I strap myself in just like before
without even thinking, expected to stand although I am sinking
The last mile cannot be seen but only felt
hoping for nothing but the end
The ice on my heart begins to melt
creating the flood and starting all over again

3/1/01

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