Sometimes i feel like i'm not moving
Suspended in the sticky threads of time
Looking on (not so numbly) as faces pass me by
I try to wave, i try to catch up
But the thin lines of deception catch and stumble my feet.

Sometimes i feel like the commodity
A pawn used by a king
Changing hands, its touch and go
I feel hopeful, even useful for awhile
But even children dont play the same games forever

Sometimes i feel like taking it out
To feel less for awhile
But the heaviness is heavier to bear
When its inside once again.