He�s waiting for a reason, to pretend that he�s sane.
He whisper to me, through the dark of his house,
Says he feels sad, that he�s as scared as a mouse.
There�s nothing to say when he cowers inside,
There�s nothing to do, he feels no sense of pride.
Outside of his head his family waits.
I wish he could see that we�re not full of hate.
An arm of an angel, I place on his waist.
His numb to my life, has no sense of space.
I�m turning twenty, but he is much more.
I lend him a shoulder, but he stares at the floor.
10.10.06