Drifting through a life
Built on want ads
Remembering things
Yet to come
As the ceiling crumbles
Revealing the sky
My voice flies away to meet the blue
With a broken wing
Guided by a compass
That only knows South
Leaving me with silence
As my only defense
Against the piling rubble
Do you remember the names
Of the hearts you've stolen?
They are buried here with me
Casualties of your private war
But I cannot stay to mourn
Not finding the key
To the door
I climb the debris
Chasing my voice
Adding another brick to the pile
With the thought of "I want . . ."
