A Heart Unmended

I am apt to forget my friends' birthdays,
But I'll always remember their faults,
"You've gotta care," they say,
But my "friends" never answer my calls.

Whether it's a plea of help,
Or a mournful tune,
I've gotta trudge on all by myself,
And walk past the moist hills and the dry dunes.

The rain my fall, the wind against the window,
As I dwindle in deeper, right into the void of shadow,
Some call it anger, some call it depression,
Yet the pain I feel isn't even a question.

Well, maybe this is my destiny,
My certain meant-to-be,
To be alone and to be great,
To be applied to grieve and to hate.

I look up at the Gods, and pray so often,
As I lay inside my self-made coffin,
As I look through my window at the twilight view,
I ponder and I wonder if I'll ever see something new.

Maybe a breath of life,
The turn of a new leaf,
Kill my dreams with a sharpened knife,
As the ones I love, fade away and leave.

Good luck, they say, you'll need it,
But the occasion never rose.
With tears falling down, and eyebrows tightly knit,
My situation is somewhat more than morose.

A trickle of water, rain, makes its way down the panes,
And I see a glimmer of hope in the way the sun breaks through the clouds,
Yet still, of course still, I am hopelessly unable to stop the pain,
As I push through the angry throngs, the fist-waving crowds.

Life goes on, so do I,
And I will try my best to change,
But if, one day, I go boom and I die,
At least, they know, that I've gone through something strange.