Another year goes by, thinking about old wrongs
Winter is here, hoping I'll hold on
I strum a clear tune to write a cold (cold) song,
But I still see your face no matter how far I've gone.

As a means of escape, I followed the signs
Left a corpse out of state at the wake to go write my rhymes
Up through the center & down the west coast, then back east
From Florida to Philly, whichever way the wind blow'd
I saw the southern border of old Mexico
Skirted Canada too, still wearing the same pair of clothes
I've gotten sick and I been hard up
But I still sang my songs to fill my gut

Miles come and go, stretching on so long
I put my pen to page, and try and move on
Another season full of days, just looking to belong
I still see your face no matter how far I've gone

(I been) Running in circles, trying to fill the time
Of the spaces left from reading in between the lines
I haven't made it far yet, but I still outshine
All the dusty bones broken down that I left behind

....

Another year goes by, thinking about old wrongs.
Winter is here again hoping I'll hold on .
I strum a clear tune to write a cold cold song .
...But, I still see your face, no matter how far I've gone.

From the top of this mountain
I look upon the earth.
Everything seems so small
as the wind is stroking my skin.

All our problems,
insignificant.
As gravity looses it's grip on me
my worries fade away.

The wind is whispering to me,
begging me to follow its call.
Like a feather
it carries me away.

With eyes upturned to the night's starry sky,
she drew in a deep breath and sighed,

"You know..." She began.
"I wish I could grab a handful of stars
and throw them back into your eyes."

An attempt to tempt temptation we're facing
The entire nation is wasting
While the time clock is racing
Sitting idle I dwell
Don't know what to do
A bottomless well
filled with good intentions
That I forgot to mention
while men's sons
climb the walls
Fingers bleed
so I choose to run
Pain outweighed only by guilt
An attempt to hide so no one would see
Added my hand by not lending a hand
The inevitable entropy

Criticize the critter's size
This infiltration among us
A monstrous demon
indeed in need of expatriation
The daily battle uphill
An upheaval, this weasel
An endless war of soldiers who sold their souls
Signed their mark on the dotted line
Became a mere dot left in time
Sand in the glass we know will not last
Last train leaves the station
Can not stay
Have been shunned

Should have listened when told
On an endless list now too old
The souls that time has forgotten
A swirl in the whirlpool for getting into this mess
A choice we did not choose
Being lost made us lose
A loser with nothing to lose
Loose with our lips
Quick with the fists
A tunnel with no light
The endless darkness in sight
Filled with fear, we do not fright
For what is wrong feels so right
Take the plunge
I just might
Endlessly spinning in time
while getting so high
Spinning out of control
This way I live, this way I die

Orange, yellow, and red stream through the dust as it settles down covering the ground and Autumn returns.

Leafs scatter in the wind
as cold chills push the trees.

The clouds become cotton *****
wrapped in there blue skies
and sunshine.

Heavy breath of snow blows
cold kisses upon your cheeks.

Autumn is never black,
its silhouette is orange,
yellow, and red.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton