standin before a broken man   no tears of joy, just a pen in hand   but can he,,buy his pride   with his reflection to confide   this story, is sad but truthful, lightly beautiful   if we could mend   a shattered heart      The shadows, comforting his thoughts   his dreams are in the clear   and he doesnt, feel the hurting   cause hes already known fear   as thoughts, begin racing   all good things must end   and problems, that hes facing   are like he never dreamt   no one sees him cry    as the wind slowly admires   and no one sees him die    throwing his hopes into the fire      the light, shines slowly on the room   the mornings sounding   his mind is blanker   than his lively stare   he hides, in shame of knowledge   knowning that alone, he falls again      The shadows, comforting his thoughts   his dreams are in the clear   and he doesnt, feel the hurting   cause hes already known fear   as thoughts, begin racing   all good things must end   and problems, that hes facing   are like he never dreamt   no one sees him cry    as the wind slowly admires   and no one sees him die    throwing his hopes into the fire