My Choice is Nothing Now is the time, that my heart aches the most. Here is the place, that my mind breaks the most. This is the day, that my hate fills the quickest. Take this time and make it disappear. Many wish to come and stare at my freakish figure; I for once say not, but my words go unheard. So they shall come, so they shall look. Let them they will see what I want them to see; And not the truly hideous creature that lurks inside of me. So come one, come all take a gander as all know you will. Come watch the desperate one and poke your fun. So I ask you, what do you see? You my say, what is there to be seen; But if you do you would be wrong. You might say, what you think you should see; Then you still would be wrong. You might say, what is there, plane as day, but rarely seen; And if you did, you would be right, however I would tell you your wrong. Why would one do this to themselves? For fun? For hate? From fear? Who knows? But better yet in my case, who cares? No one not even I for I cared for to long; And now what heart I once had; Has turned to black, it shrivelled up into a tiny lump and waits to take it’s final pump. So come out and take your last look; For tomorrow if I get my way there will be nothing to see. But my choice means nothing, so why bother to speak. I sit here and wait, wait for my time. And I will for an eternity for my time shall never come. By: Brad Campbell December 26, 1998