By Bobby Meeks

January 1, 1999

fire flys

sit back and watch the fire flys

brighten up the darkest skys

and the people that you hate the most

shed their skins

become ghosts

and the sorrow that you crave so much

is nothing but a helping crutch

i stay up late and torment my mind

trying to find that perfect rhyme

and something tells me i'm not lost

even though i've given up

it plagues my brain every day

it's only time before i break