even the best need to revise sometimes

Every now and again I can't help but feel down
and it's because I am always looking up, staring
into the clouds. The sky makes me feel silly for believing
we are infinite or that our personal problems are anything
worth wasting time to try and calculate solutions.

I sleep, eat, work, eat, sleep and repeat.
My days feel numbered because I already got
a routine that will have me put down to rest
in an early grave. I cannot stand the test's
that come with every second of our existence.

Humans, we have invented letters so we may forge together
words and learn to elaborate our feelings to each other.
I'm afraid to admit it was in vain for must use lies
when constructing sentences to mask their true
intentions. We hide what we wanna share with carefully
detailed ploy's; I must say each night I shed both clothes and lies.

Water too hot; food too cold; phone too quiet,
my head too heavy, memory's too full, my contentment
too full of disdain for me to enjoy satisfaction.
It doesn't matter when or where; or even
with whom because it is this way I shall always remain.

Sure I smile in photo's and pose for the pictures
but the grin I bare feels forced, the flash makes me portray
an ability to be happy; because I know they're
forever and when I see other people pose with smiles'
it nulls me to the point of numb. In fact its their faces
that make me long for somewhere that is an uninhabited place.
It's her eyes that make me long for this secret palace!

It's not that I hate her but quite the contrary;
it's just I got nothing to say; because in a memory
is where I am most perfect, the best I can possibly be.
If she occasionally reflects back on the way
it had been before time came and stole from her
her youth, I plea silently that she does remember
me for who I had been and not what I've become lately.

I hope she understands I can't hold her hand, couldn't
be the one whom holds her head high above the torrent
of water that is her tears. Regret is the feeling I understand
but still I'm lost if you ask me do I truly comprehend.
It's been so long I wonder it odd if she were to not even pretend
she knew me. For I am just an awkward mess, not nearly the man
she said I'd be; but then again maybe it's my disdain
for others which drew her to me, I believe she had once been
over heard saying, 'what a silly boy who will be a sillier man.'

Rain does make me feel a little better 'Cos it reminds me
I'm not the only thing that cry's relentlessly.
God's angel's shed tears for human kind and our miserable history;
where as I, I just cry due to the theory that with each passing day
becomes more real, I will die without ever belonging to another.

Despite what I say or where I go or whom I know
it will end the same; me hitchhiking outta town before
the next sunrise. I can't bare the thought of giving another
girl the chance to break me into two at her whim and folly.
I ask of each woman I layeth with to be gentle with my weary
heart and soul. To give me something somewhat of a peaceful
masquerade; but instead I get pieces of my sought after serenity.