Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Compromise

There's a cost to sitting out the war
Nothing gained , losing everything with out ever holding on 
Regret echos the empty drive and the smell of  rotting defeat as the glass sits empty 
For another night left to rusted chairs sitting in a cold bar 
Speaking so clearly , and it's to late 
Waisted gains 

To return tomorrow knowing you will come home wanting