Ashes fall from the cigarette of the man who can't forget
Who learns more from a single second of silence
Than from any word ever spoken to him

Any poem misunderstood
Or from every second of his past that haunts him


Could I be more lonely
I don't know if I could


Put in front of the mirror
Why he can't recall
As he stares into the scars he cannot cover

But to all hands laid upon him
And all the hands that try to hold him
The pain still hides beneath the surface


Could I be more lonely...


Night passes behind him but he doesn't turn to look
The shackles and the gag will not allow it
So far am I from caring, he says

Or do I care too much?
For the more I give the more I must be given