Will it ever work out like it does in my mind?
Will all those wonderful things come true?
Will that one person say the perfect words?

Will I fly on a perfect cloud?
The one which floats on the perfect breeze?
Or will it not hold me and let me fall,
Crashing upon the earth in a mess?

Am I that cloud on the breeze?
Every passing moment deciding my fate?
That breeze can stop and ill fall to my end,
or it can push me places I don’t want to be?

Will the breeze be a good one?
Pushing me to the right place?
Will I ever get that breeze which does right?
I feel it will never come.

I see the right breeze, far away.
Reaching out, grabbing for it,
but the breeze I am on pushes me away,
and that singe good breeze is lost forever.

So I drift along waiting for the answers,
the ones which will never come from these silent winds.
So I stare away into the nothingness
And let out a sigh that's lost in the breeze.

 
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