I'm your poet, I'm your pain I'm your forever never was In the black chill lake Right at moonlight Listen as I hide my scream Dressed as a ballad.
I'm your sculptor, I'm your sanity I'm your always and forever Colorless hallucinations A nostalgia induced sight Hold me gently in a second Then vanish before I wake up
I'm your painter, I'm your dream I'm your never looking back Blinding lights of evermore Baggy jeans and icy grins Baby we were an eclipse Ephemeral like my wish.
The simplicity of rhymes freely flows through the readers mind. As simplistic words unravel in an array of poetic babble we channel the memes of our muses.
No forced word can capture, no college can teach the aesthetics of laughter, the glamour of grief.
The essay of brilliance awaits in the zone. The Muse and the Master in the hearts of gold.
i don't understand i just don't understand why every single time i cover it with a sleeve or cargo pants and tell myself "that was the last time, i'm going to stop doing this." but its happened so many times i know it's a lie