Bitter Season

Dawn peeks in.
Whitewashed children absorb ideas of things to be.
Beginning one more cycle
an empty palate possibility.
All too late, it starts to fade.
The canvas shows impressions of lies.
Waste of hues on a death bed,
Painting frost on cold, closed eyes.
Look as far as you can see,
vision is blurred past your life.
(Chorus)
This bitter season forever frozen
in winter where nothing can grow.
Remember your life before imagination held boundaries.
Simple things capturing me,
There were so many new things to see.
Just drifting into nowhere
I'm lost but there is nothing to save.
Some abstract pile of garbage,
a mosaic of shattered ideals
a waste of broken glass and you have to cut deep to feel.
(Chorus)
We are going in circles