Amber Green Poems
The Lost Cause
Forever I will be your,
Death and misery intertwine,
As I grow to hate the hour of nine.
Tears are so foriegn, yet they fall,
Each time God drops another ball.
The balls of life are slipping through his hands,
As the souls of the lost drift into distant lands.
He wins his games each day and night,
And everytime he does I am stricken by fright.
There's only so many times a heart can be broken,