I am very nearly thirty now,
I have been sat in this cold, damp place for hours
Thinking about what could have been, had i not touched the powder
A year since my wife succumbed to the lull of death,
Oh how i wish i could join
What i would do to reverse my past,
my children an i together at last
Theres nothing left but this bitter shell of a man
My life encompassed by my selfishness
Waiting, wishing, wondering about what will be
How cruel a life full of misery
My heart seldom beats much anymore,
for what is the point in life when you have nothing to live for?
