Comments about Joshua Matthews
I Wish It Were Delerium
I can’t believe your dead, its still unreal it seams
I wake with scattered thoughts; it seams your still with me
I saw a broken window, on a car I used to drive.
Windshield now scarred red, with remnants of your life
A tattered scar is torn, asphalt painted tire
A soul is left to morn, the same to build a pyre
Imbibe you once did do, two hours before the deed
Crimson now paints red the ashes of your seed
Two men came to me an hour before I woke,
With uniform aplenty I knew before they spoke.
That she would not come home, of her own volition