Sitting here in the darkness of my room. the light is out and the sky is black

the only light i see is the moons with her silver shine that reaches down from the sky, im reaching out my hand in a foolish geasture to see if i can touch the ligh. But its to far away and my hand shrinks back into the darkness. Maybe it wasn\'t there for me, the light,

From my radion i hear sad songs about pain and love and when they sing about the scared boy i know they sing about me. My wounds have healed from years of bleeding but i can still see the my scars and not even time will take them away, like even time herself have printed the scars over my body so i would never forgett,

I smile and wonders if I really need the scars to remember those nights of pain those days of sorrow. Maybe some people take the pain so other people can live without it.

A few man suffers for the good of more. Or what do i know? I cant remember who i was, and how can i know who i am now if i dont know who i was?