a pointless perfection
of a common reflection
for commercial reasons
and personal treasons
cool whispers are calling
and protection is falling
release is buring
away your desires
control is fueling
the devastating fire
where does hope come from,
and why does it go?
where do you run
when there's nothing you know?
who to talk to
who to run to
who will lend you
a shoulder to cry on
a bed to lie on
when you do not have your own,
when you are alone?
who, i ask you?
who, i beseech you?
who gives you these things?
for there is no one for me
and i am slowly
dying
~erika boal