And here is another day
Have you ever found yourself taking a taxi back home and telling the driver everything about your life? Or perhaps the passenger sitting next to in that long train ride with nothing but snow outside. And how about that cashier, bank-teller and even that girl you just recently meet at the pub.
You talking to anyone and everything, because your alone.
Because you wanted that stuff out off you.
To be heard, to be told and even question.
Dammit, man my life matter and important!
You shout like some crazy person behind the bars inside your mind.
Yet you find yourself
…talking endlessly to anyone that’s there.
Your dying to be heard, living in the edge of someone showing
concern and interesting in your life.
Why is that? You tell yourself, I’m strong person, I’m a weak person.
But why may the only shit that’s left behind?