It was a Friday night, and I took a long walk around.
Just to ease my mind which stress seems to surround.
It felt so great, the warm breeze hit my face.
As I glanced at the constellations shining from the east.
So I step forward, and continue to reminisce
Moving silently, to what Atmosphere acknowledges.
And the moon moves an sadly grins from the view.
As a young kid walks off the emotions he once knew.
A cow moo’s, I see it standing in the dark.
Another sleepless soul, looks like were in the same park.
I glance up, just in time to see a comet.
Close my eyes and make a wish, maybe I can stop it.
And pocket it, cause the luck it holds I need.
I’m tired of being out of money for this toll of dreams.
I look away, towards the long road ahead of me.
Push the memories from my view, and walk into another scene.

Now a new scene, I see this young girl of fifteen.
Staring in the mirror as a tear reflects from a dream.
All she wanted was to be a witness of compassion.
Yet instead she became a witness of verbalized aggression.
Now she stepped forward, and crossed the lines into depression.
Eye’s pierced with the tears of absolute neglection.
Mentally altered, this girl took thee abuse.
Later to encrypt her wrists with a knife she shouldn’t use.
Another fight, so she turns to a heaven’s view.
Cries and she prays to a God she never really knew.
Never understanding why life takes it’s sways.
While she sees a loving family when here life turns to gray.
So she sneaks out, to walk off all her memories.
Walks down a boulevard, yet it’s like a country street.
Kicks a stone in the light shining from the moon.
As I watch in the distance as she walks outta view.

Love lost, is different then what it seems.
You just gotta acknowledge all your opportunities.
Walking in one’s shoes is thee only way to see.
So you gotta stay open so everyone believes.

Now a Veteran, straight outta World War Two.
Stares out the window, with his eyes so blue.
Remebering the times as a strong young chap.
Now he sit’s in his wheelchair, he’s now handicap.
Cause he can not forget all the blood that was shed.
Young growing boys live’s end before it begins.
Haunted by the image, it now pillages his brain.
Can barley even speak, without hearing bullets ring.
He dreams of, taking back what he’d seen.
A young Jewish boy left slaughtered by his feet.
Wondering, what kind of human can achieve.
Such a gruesome status, and still be an elite.
It penetrates his head, even decades after war.
But still he dreams nightmares of both blood and gore.
He closes his eyes, and he prays for an escape.
From this terror that has haunted him through the life he’s made.