The Twlight Years

Don't get me wrong... I love what I do
It's just that it's like a mirror, the reflection, could easily be me or you

I enter each day, a world I don't easily get
Each morning, I'm a calendar, for those who forget

The quirks, the concerns, the ongoing tweaks
The pain of the mind, so loudly it speaks

Yes we laugh, do have fun and yes, we do love
But what does the lord want from this, in his high ground above?

Why so much suffering within a world full of strain?
Why so much more undeniable and confused pain?

We all want to envelope our peaceful, twilight days
But most of us will exist in some incoherant but tolerate haze

The place my friends live is comfy, without doubt
But they cannot be free to experience life, oh and just get out

The drugs just cause sleep and they no not what they take
I must enter their world and a difference, I strive to make

It's not about just wiping arse
Their pleasure though limited, is mine, but a farse

Don't get me wrong I love what I do
It's just a question will it be me or you?