Part of me is floating somewhere in the sea.
part of me is incomplete.
part of me is you.
I imagine you are alone somewhere unknown
Thinking of us and us of you.
Son when you were small
I was not sure what to do with you.
My relationship was a stormy one.
I realize now that was not good for me especially for you.
That dissolved and too late now
but left a scar.
Your "dad" never gave a shit.
(For lack of better words)
Trying to deal with it the best I can.
You left mad to this cold world
unknown where or even safe.
I think about you every second of my day.
Son please come back
cuz you are my other half.
As we're talking right now,
Your words repair my broken insides,
Without even addressing them!
How do you do this?
I'm trying not to get reattached,
For as soon as this dusk hits dawn,
Your magic presence will be gone
So I do the only thing I can,
An abortion of this dialogue,
Before it turns into a desperate monologue
And you wonder why I've grown distant,
Well, I explained it to you, you still chose to act ignorant
I told you I'm protecting what's been broken before
You said I have nothing to be scared for
Where's that promise now, love?
Where's that heroic conviction to be there for me?
I never I asked you for it,
it's how you wanted things to be
I shouldn't have fallen for the words, before I'd seen them in practice,
But you're a master of illusions,
You make actions lie
How do you do this?
After all these fights with myself,
Head and heart at war
I chose to go with my head,
But one word with you, and the heart evens the score
She's a product of your mind
And, she'll commit your crimes
She promises to live in all times
With nothing to hold on to
She still lives inside you
She turned your heart black
And, she'll never give it back
She's an image you cannot rip
Forever stuck in her ghostly trip
Its hard to bare your reflection when your disturbed by the image it makes. As you stare into the mirror, your faced to deal with your mistakes.
The truth of the matter is you can lie to the world, and live the life of an actor. You can portray yourself in many ways, but when you look in the mirror, you view the truth that you cant escape.
Your just a pawn playing social chess just to be accepted, by interested impressionist. I stray far away and ignore getting sucked in, to associating with manican's that pretend to be your friends.
The social ladder is filled with actors, lies, and insecurities. So I judge alone by actions shown, and only trust my certainties.
Most people base their judgements by your appearance and your current status. I guess my designs unique, I base my judgements by your actions.
I stay true to myself, I'm not eager to be accepted. I view my friends as family and I'm willing to die for my investments.
For all the time that I've invested, I would give my life to provide protection. Because quality over quantity, is the "ONLY" acceptable method of friendship!
She sat in the old armchair,
In the winter of her life.
The last of her sisters;
A once comfortable wife.
With bony white finger
She traced the pattern of her chair;
Withered from age
Like the strands of her hair.
For her kids had come and gone.
Her fears, she passed them on.
An ok husband she had;
A time long ago, a time not so bad.
'Love' and spouse,
Kids and house
Were the choices she made.
Unbeknownst to her,
The passion she had
Was bound to fade.
That man in the corner,
At the end of his days.
A bottle of whiskey;
A familiar haze.
His cold empty house
Devoid of all life.
Followed his heart;
Never took he a wife.
Passion and success
(which he had to confess)
Were great (for awhile).
These were the choices that he made.
Unbeknownst to him,
His desire for love would never fade.
At the end of the night
All wrapped up in warm covers and plight,
He contemplated the answers to his
Tell unto me
Which one was right?
Among the mountains I wandered and saw blue haze and
red crag and was amazed;
On the beach where the long push under the endless tide
maneuvers, I stood silent;
Under the stars on the prairie watching the Dipper slant
over the horizon's grass, I was full of thoughts.
Great men, pageants of war and labor, soldiers and workers,
mothers lifting their children--these all I
touched, and felt the solemn thrill of them.
And then one day I got a true look at the Poor, millions
of the Poor, patient and toiling; more patient than
crags, tides, and stars; innumerable, patient as the
darkness of night--and all broken, humble ruins of nations.