Hand full of Sand
His eyebrow was twitching,Originally Posted by Mad Season
probably wishing he was there.
He stared - but empty inside,
almost like a broken egg shell.
What the hell could he do?
What truth clings onto the whispers?
A Winter breeze brushes his skin,
but we're in the middle of Summer.
No way! Not another casualty!
Confused, he casually walks away.
"He better pray that she's okay!"
He fires up the ignition,
ready for a nightmare.
His condition scares the family!
His own enemy is driving recklessly,
and restlessly thinking of revenge.
His teeth cringe and grind,
as he begins to cry.
Suddenly, there's an awkward bend
right along the rim of his spine.
But he doesn't mind,
and the drive is almost endless.
His limits have been pushed over,
tumbling downward like a sober drunk.
And when he thinks the journey's done,
he finds out that it's just begun.
The view.
It's just like something on the news,
not something that happens to you!
These police, who - were too late.
They choose to break him into pieces,
and then release his insanity!
"What? Why?"
Two simple questions from a simple guy.
Answered by his eyes,
and a bit of tainted sunshine.
She was so nice - not a bad person,
the killer, she never meant to hurt him!
Their interests were just so different,
but he couldn't live without her?
Well, HE couldn't live without her!
So as he watches them take her away,
incapable of draining the teary aqueduct.
He jumps into his truck and drives home,
once again, in this world completely alone.
After a real long night,
two bottles and a pint.
He wakes up and stands,
with a hand full of sand.
Time's out.