Weak and Wimpering,
Sitting in the innermost corner.
Seeing only the dark and twisting conscience,
Weave it’s way back and forth.
Afraid of what the future has become,
What I have made it.
Where have I lead tomorrow,
Change is not what I have done.
Stagnant and Fermenting,
The future waits for me.
And still I sit,
Weak and Wimpering.
~SHANE EDE 1999