A Love Who Can Not Be Reached

Looking all around him, distaste on his tongue.
He can't stand these fucking people, ready to be done.

He wants to paint the walls brain matter gray.
Always asking when will it be his day.

Craving his own death, believing himself a martyr.
Knowing with nothing else, his soul he can barter.

One more crack and he'll break, no one else can see.
One more crack and he'll break, then we'll all see.

Finally finding the paint brush of his dreams.
Creating a Rembrandt of his silent screams.

Fading fast, he's here no more.
Grey and red, stain the floor.

I'm home and arrive to a scene.
Finding a note that reads "We're all shattered dreams."