The all
seeing eye that mocks me.
I lay in
the fire and I will not burn.
I dance in
the rain and it stops before I am wet.
The snow
remains ice before it will be warm enough to feel.
It is
never warm enough.
I feel
nothing.
Laughter.
The hand
of light lays outside my grasp.
I jump the
height and only fly.
I run the
cliff and drift down softly.
The drop
becomes high before it will danger the falling.
It is
never high enough.
There's no
danger.
Laughter.
But never
success.
Only
Tears.