The Good Old Days

I long for days past
a time of old
forgotten now
dreams of mine
to be born anew
a past not to be reached

but it scares me
youth must not yearn for times past
we look to the present
we hope for the future
but what is there?

I look around
and all I see
death and destruction
seeing the world through dead eyes
nothing hurts anymore
I've seen it all before

how can this world be so cold
to take from those who only give
and lavish upon the strong
the fortunate
the greedy
I seek to know
what is the point?
madness is the norm

my innocense is long gone
lost with my childhood
lost with that cold figure
laying on a table
all in white
but I know she's with me still
I tire of burying friends

I long for days of old
it could only get better
now life seems a futility
long and rough
and I need a rest
and I need to find
why we must lose the good
harbour the bad

Life is cold and hard
it's a bitch
yet still I write
what's the point?
I'm nothing but a cliche