

Cameron Godfrey
I'm Cameron Godfrey and I'm here to leave a legacy.
The clock will tick on
Turning back its speeding hands
Only speeds it up
The sky is a shade of angry air
With the false illusion of gray
The kind that foreshadows agony
That never goes away
Skyscrapers high and paves on the ground
Serving as concrete masks
Wallflowers hide as wallflowers do
From people walking past
Never does a color floss
Through trench coats and slacks, all the same
Never does a person pass
Who knows more than your name
For wallflowers hide as wallflowers do
And no one really cares
For those wallflowers grow, ivy on brick
It never moves, but it's there.
An anonymous terror
That hides in the halls
And burns down our stands
And blocks out our calls
An anonymous terror
That makes and it breaks
Breaking the real
And making the fake.
An anonymous terror
That points out our flaws
Gives insult to injury
And tears down our cause
An anonymous terror
That burns down our signs
You can break all our pickets
But you can't break our pride.
I stated my grievances
3 for each class
Each handful of problems
Each pain in the ass
I stated my grievances
But thought of the perks
I couldn't find a piece
That didn't really hurt
So I stated my grievances
Shouted them loud
I'd love to discuss them
But I'm not allowed
I am a reader
I flip page to page
I live a different life
Every single day
With a whoosh I’m a wizard
A vampire, a slayer
My book is a game
And I am its player.
A million different minds
All share one head
When I read a book
Under covers in my bed
I am a reader
A reader is me
I can be in any story
So that’s where I’ll be.
I write like a poet
I speak the words of a song
I sing like an angel
…who tends to get the notes wrong.
I’m funny and friendly
Or I pretend to be
I’m weird but I’m witty
I guess that’s just me.
I wear my sneakers
To parties with dresses
I paint on the walls
And I make frosting messes
I suppose I’m annoying
But I bet you are too.
I guess that’s my panache.
How about you?
"Every child is an artist"
And an artist I'll be
Happiness and freedom
That's music to me.
The echo of the hall
ting, ting, ting on white keys
Like an escape from reality
That's music to me.
Curtains and costumes
Dancing, moving free
Waves of the ocean
That's music to me.
I write about love and I write about hate
I am a writer who was born to create
I am a writer
I write with a pen and I type with a whirl
I'm a writer, a poet, a creative girl.
I am a writer
Hear the whoosh of my pen
I am a writer and I'll say it again
Because I am a writer
I want to be heard
So I'll write every sentence with thought in each word
I write about love and all that is great
I am a writer who was born to create
The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
And the sky is an ominous boat of gravy
But the scenery's bright
In the middle of the night
When the sky is swirled in navy.
The scenery's lonely
And you are the only
Life in the march of a swarm
The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
But it feels refreshingly warm.
There are infinite stars
And infinite wishes
That I mouth in my restless sleep
There are millions of words
That I wanted to say
But I conceal every peep.
There are billions of people
With billions of thoughts
It what seems like billions of hours a day.
Millions of miles
And infinite wishes
Why is he so far away?
Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy, greed
The allure of lust confused with need
Fear, fear of floating or falling
Crying to feel the sting of your bawling
Anger, anger, joyful or sad
It hurts so much
But it's not so bad.
I love you
I love you too
To say it, to say it aloud
I love you
I love you too
To feel it, to let it all out
I just wanted to hear it
I'll say it again
I love you to the moon and back
I love you
I love you too
Saying it, knowing for a fact.
That I love you
I love you too
I miss you, I miss your sweet touch
I love you
I love you too
And I miss you, I miss you so much
And it feels so good.
I could write you a sonnet
An epic in length
I could paint you a picture
With an acre's worth of paint
But to write you a sonnet
I'd need to confess
A love for you, darling
That I cannot express
I could write you a sonnet
But would you even read
My letter to you
In my time of need?
This time I need you
The words on my lips are too sweet to reveal
So I beg for your pardon as my poem is concealed
The rhyme and the prose, I'm too scared to say
So it fails to see the light of day
The words they lust but will reach you not
But they will live on. They'll live on in my thought.
There are words that I want you to know
And I'm sorry, I'm sorry
But I can't let them show.
Forgive me
But the whole truth?
Never has there been an escape
Never have I seen the way out
Never has there been a green light
Nor a benefit of the doubt
Never has there been a yellow-brick-road
Nor a lantern to lead my way past
Never has there been guidance
Nor an answer to the questions I've asked
Forever there's been a problem
When yourself is the antagonist
Forever there's been a conflict
That cannot be solved with your fist
But forever and ever we've fought
We fight ourselves and we fight each other
Pain and pleasure walk hand in hand
But never look in the eyes of one another
Never have they met
Not really
Do you recall pain?
Remember the restless nights?
Now they are your fault
The tables have turned
Time is on the other side
Of this agist world
Now you are the problem
You invoke the sleeplessness
I hope you're happy
We are not
Cold silence shatters
Awaken the shrill voices
Of minds in the night
I loved you
You liked me
I accepted it, I s'pose
I love you
You like me
And that's how it always goes.
But now we're together
And I love you still
But I can't make you love me
So I'll hope that you will
I call myself a feminist and you cringe
If you've got a problem, Sir, just build a bridge.
I'll cry you a river if you'll get over it.
I'm done dealing with your stupid shit.
When I believed in magic things were good.
I wanted to be a princess the way any little girl would.
But I grew up and now my heart's not on my sleeve
'Cause I'm not that little girl and I'm no longer naive.
When I believed in magic things were nice
Prince Charming was only a ride away in a chariot with mice
But I'm not the way I was before, I believe
That I'm not that little girl and I'm no longer naive.
When I believed in magic, when you lied
I believed in Prince Ali and in his magic carpet ride.
But I'm older now and I'm starting to see
That I'm not that little girl and I'm no longer naive.
