The fire in these eye's,
with all the truth behind the lies.
All the feelings never ending,
when you say my dreams can fly.
Shot down when running,
pushed over when in flight.
The dreams, they never make it,
when they are so far out of sight.
Blinded when looking,
the senses are no more.
When the sound of nothing scares you,
and your too weak and to sore.
What is left to come,
when there is nothing left to bare,
and well, what is left of us,
when their is no-one left to care?
Ryan Nigh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/3-2-1/
