Street lights shed no light of vision, the cold wind blocked, but you remember every moment. Was there ever a time, or has it always been like this? Tonight the bottle offers no answers; these were the decisions you said you could handle. This was the moment you said you were ready for, so the unexpected proves you to be weak.
All the eyes around you can scrutinize, tear apart your insides. The whispers, and suggestions, liar icons to fool a sense of direction blind. Miracle cures offered to sedate the friend of the flesh saves for the benefit while the words of the charade save for convenience. Will there ever be a time?
Spend a lifetime in wonder to realize what? Place indentity to material, ancient, out-dated thoughts. Standards of beauty constict passion to save a social expectation. Or are you still so far gone to realize, too closed up to understand human nature versus mankind's new order sell out or set out against.