SEVEN

SEVEN

In the rain,
Always in the rain,
I stand here,
Watching the shadows pass me by.

I watch them move about,
Going here and there,
Their lives meaningless,
Their emotions sickening.

In the rain,
always in the rain,
I watch them in their cold surroundings,
As they pretend it is anything but.

I watch them play their little games,
Wasting their useless lives,
Hiding the truth from each other’s eyes,
That they will all die.

In the rain,
always in the rain,
I watch them grow old,
Watch their superficial smiles fade.

I watch them cry for their dead,
And forget them soon after,
They smile for the newborn,
Convincing themselves of lies.

In the rain,
Always in the rain,
We are but shadows,
Shadows in the rain.