Lost Things
The days have lost their meaning and shape What mattered most is gone Yet a core remains within me, one I guard Significant only to me, to no one else I know it is good, this thing of greatest value The opinions of others hold no weight here They have already spoken, that I never wrote it down That they will not read it; they ensured that would be the case Even though I wrote it under their influence To help them understand themselves To heal what was broken within them It matters not, they will not reach for it anyway It seems to me they have stepped onto a path of no return Flowers bloom, yet they cast no fragrance They boast of their colours, while I see only rotting roots There is no room for healing in their homes For long ago, they abandoned themselves Pretending nothing happened, that everything is fine I suppose I see things differently than they do And so, I must be punished for being myself Yet in reality, they are punishing themselves Using the cruellest weapon: the neglect of their own souls
