Chances

A cluttered mind
What our generation is made of
The fragile backbone
Flimsy as a feather-light dove
Us as people have no chance
We as one...
There's a slim chance
With this chance
There is caution proceeding
The bowstrings will "twang"
And our hearts will be bleeding
And so it is finished
The door is now slammed
If you ask me...
We were all doomed from the start
There was no chance of being remembered
No leaving footprints
Where we once were
The lyre is discarded
The notes in the air, far from faded
The threads of our lives snipped and ended
Fraying apart into nothing
The mournful swallow lets out a cry
Spreads its wings
And takes to the sky
Our lives are all bypassed
With one fleeting glance
And that's it
Its gone