tate-morgan
American
I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a ideal akin to Mayberry. I grew to manhood under the Midwest sun. Playing Baseball and running the streets of my little town. Where friends were lifelong spirits. Essence of their souls follow me still. It was a simpler time. There were no shades between right and wrong. Full to the rim with absolutes. In the place I came from all was right with the world. But as I grew so did the world. Along with me the rest posed immortal questions to the creator. Till the world was as you see it now. A complicated shade of gray. / Tate Morgan
I rode the train with my girl today
across the barn swept hollows
Past lush fields of emerald green
with the life and love that follows
The train car tapped out a lullaby beat
which spent our time lost in leisure
The smiles past came by in the peace
small sweet gifts we couldn’t measure
A man had set across the aisle of us
he seemed so different from me
Clothes tattered, torn and weathered
homeless and likely worn hard was he
I couldn’t help but to take the notice
his features hewn and deeply lined
Drawing a map of where he'd been
red eyed he looked half blind
Something alone in his vacant stare
said It was me that he resembled
The thought had taken me a-fright
I looked hard, long and trembled
I saw my lover look over him too
noticed the hair might be the same
Except for straggling beard and decay
I had felt a deep sense of shame
Could that be what would happen to me
what fallen angel had led him astray
A nightmare vision of life’s full truth
eyes of pain in the heart they betray
Then my lover looked back upon me
her thoughts she sought hard to repress
How kind her teared eyes that hid the truth
from her lips that would never confess
Tate
Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 6:13 PM UTC