Save the Date

So much to say with nowhere to start

Broken-hearted ballads of your salad days are so bizarre

And taking photographs like modern art

to substitute the absolutely futile ways you fall apart

Finally feel like myself again

Containing what mainly is relevant

I tend to move in a groove less than vacant

Why do I act so evasive?

Seeking to serve, but it's safe to say

"No I got to much on plate"

Begging your comrades and making fake promises

Oddly you often confide in a grave