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 May 2014 Alex Paczynski
Mia
Everything you touch
Turns to dust
Golden dust
Cause it all starts from ashes
And develops into beauty.
Touch me
that I may become your muse
Have you ever stood in the shadows
Of someone so grand
That you couldn't even speak
No
You couldn't understand
You stand so tall
On your mountain of pride
That I feel so very small
And severely unrefined
I can't express this emotion
Every line absurd
So I ponder in your shadow
Searching for the right word
Learn
In order to stand
On your mountain of pride
I must learn the lessons
I have long denied
To learn is to grow
And I must grow tall
So that in your presence
I don't feel so **** small
So shed some light down won't you
For this budding young lady
Dwelling on your mountain side
Has been shockingly shady lately
Today I feel like gray,
A dark shadow in a
Colorless world.
The shadowy rainbows
Stretch across
A shady sunset.
Gray-- Shadow-- Me.
Almost alone in a gray-toned
Paradise.
Maybe I want to be alone--
Gray sunlight washing over me,
Bathing the landscape in
Bland light.
Not blue, red, yellow.
Gray.
A colorless gray.
A gray that speaks soft words
And sings low and sweet--
The fuzzy gray down of a bird.
But gray,
Dreary-- never delightful,
But not so dark--
There is still light.
I am gray;
That is how I feel.
Petrified in a cloudy color,
Gray--
A stony face.
Gray--
A lost wish in the darkness.
The soft gray sweeps over all
Sometime...
Alone.

Will you be there?
Saxify Definition: to turn something into stone
If I were a painter
You would ask me to paint you a story
Telling the world of how incandescent life can be
Using that time we ran through the sprinklers at a park
Glistening in the moonlight at one in the morning
As inspiration

If I were a musician
I would compose a new song
To act as the soundtrack
To the time we sat at the top of the hill
Saying our goodbyes
With only our foreheads pressed together
Like praying hands

If I were an architect
I would build a space for us
So that you could always come back
To something that reminds you of me.
You could keep your knick knacks here
To help fill the house of your smell
For me to visit while you're away.

If I were an astronomer
I would make you a constellation
To help you find your bearings
Whenever you feel out of place.

If I were anything else
Anything with more talent
Would I still mean such little to you?

— The End —