All the fine woman I've wanted to know more in life drifted away from me and I couldn't even get a Christian Church woman to live a proper life of morality with so I sit here and slowly die in my sin also with my systematic shortcomings. I've missed so many people but perhaps now I only used to. Seems like it didn't take much time for them to all forget about me. Thus what, if I say to the memory cells of all those I loved to be gone, even those who never knew. In a way of words if the main blood vessel in my heart bursted open, I'd say that still isn't enough. No I've already screamed along with the sounds of those in Hell fire. Yea, I've had the thorns of roses cut me open as fresh sand paper with all its rocks, all the crystals. And I've had the petals of all the roses turn to ember, burning before me and on my skin. It all withered away before my feet as the ash of a back yard fire away from the city, when there's nothing but the chairs left and a few empty cans. But no one knew it was the last one for the lad who was invited before he just sat in his chair all day. Wasn't even his fault either how do you move a corpse? Yet he's breathin seems alright.. Would definitely guess wrong considering he's as cold as frost bite as night definitely a dead man inside.