Lisms Inside

Young hearts beat

And old hearts beat

But idealism are not alive

Yet they live inside

These few named we

Who think their eyes can see

A new dawn befor the next day has arrived

And such is the plight

Of those minds who might

Lose themselves in a day

And waste every dying light

On a tomorrow perhaps

On a next time which just might

Therein truth come

But more than likely the light

Was just spent in the eyes

Of a questioning and contemplative

Alike

And the last day is gone

Though you may still yet live alive