Pretending life

It was in pretending that one heart was made whole,

the sweetest of dreams crying for something more.

Eyes of blue painting my green heart cold,

waiting for someone to accept who I can be.

Was it in her look that held my soul inside,

or did she just see me without seeing my face at all?

A twisted evil within the very essence in my eyes,

bleeding words on the pages of my heart.

Images pretending to hide who they are,

on the lights my shadows know your name well.

Is there truly a feeling of love or just a feeling,

in who or what I have become I see nothing.

Standing cold in fiery stares once alive,

death guides me into who I was meant to be.

Under this grave my body accepts the path,

into darkness where I was first created.

No pain to endure in times of silence lost,

held beneath of who my ghost has lied to.

Pretend no more my words painted in my heart,

where my soul lives only because my body has died.













Johnny Newell