To Late

I fall in and out of consciousness,
The days all blur into one,
Like the way the world looks,
After staring at the sun.

Life floats on by,
Like a feather in the wind,
The feather from a dead bird,
From a bird that has sinned.

The ice in my scotch glass melts,
Because i drink it to slow,
Like the smoke drifting from my cigarette,
No direction, or a plan where to go.

I wish I could just go back,
To when i laughed and played,
Jumping on a trampoline,
Before my dreams were frayed.

But now its all to late,
My thoughts would make you cry,
I stand here in this hell alone,
With a smile to the world I lie.