a boring sunday....

sometimes we can't prevent the inevitable
sometimes the inevitable simply means falling to second place
sometimes even falling short
sometimes not even needing to fall at all
sometimes when you try to want it the mosts
ometimes you lost controlsometimes you never know
sometimes it's just so
sometimes you choose not to explain it
sometimes you pretend and ignore its
ometimes it festers longer and deeper
sometimes it self-intoxicates and creeps away
sometimes it ends a lifesometimes it ...
it? what is it?the feeling of losing control?
the answers you cannot hold?
the anger that's grown ten fold?
the lies that can't be told?
unjustify the need for lost feelings of hope
but instead grasps and hold
all that is said, all that is done
all that is over, there's no place to run
fear of the uncertainclear of which you are none
the life of an infantwe wish but we can't
over and over our life it demands
hand to the trigger of this cold gun
hopeless abandon, indeed you think you're one
there lies green grass, on that side, go run
nothing is meant to be a punlose the discontentment
lose the resentment
lose the remnants
history is history laid over the other
take another choice, i guess you'd rather.