About the Poem
It's about a person who tried to make something of himself, and he tried real hard to be a success. But events in his life never pieced together right. His friend tried to help him, but never helped him quite enough. And I do believe that he became so depressed he killed himself.
|He sees it clearly; now he's gone.
His whole life has gone so wrong.
Tries to reach out for the light.
His hand consumed by pitch of night.
Could have been on his side.
Helped him out from all his lies.
Could have been a waiting game.
Try real hard for instant fame.
And he's gone; now he's gone.
He's got it all so wrong.
Sit in the darkness; watch the trees.
Silence is now the word I see.
Trying so hard has got him down.
Blackness makes no single sound.
In the abyss I count your smiles.
Walked across a million miles.
Now's the time to see you through.
Waiting game in solitude.
Now it's a waiting game, I see.
Trying to sow the living seeds.
Now is the time to make the grade.
Failure is not an option made.
It's always a waiting game, I know.
Trying to reap the seeds I've sown.