All the times before
The time is now
Lessons passed from ages
Generations become a stepping stone
And man must learn
It's always a war
We win and lose
These bodies are holy trinity
As histories blood seeps through our pages
What do we know
Haven't the oceans been crossed?
Doesn't the rain fall from on high?
Don't the clouds hold hidden faces?
Will the sun sometimes shine?
It is a blue sky
It is the backs of the slaves
It is our history's tomorrow
Today that we can change
It is the death
And the loss
And the pain
It is our glory
Our redemption
A story we hear time again
But give so little attention
Become our fear from our hope
We have our chance
To make a change
And open our eyes for just the first time
To shine a light
To burn
Burn away the darkness
We have a chance
Or we don't
Man must learn

But you say "I love you" to every girl you meet
And that really isn't love,
Just because you are lonely
And what's sad about that is -
You'll never really feel "love"
Because she leaves or you leave
And you're back on the desperate hunt for a new
"I love you"
And this cycle repeats
Love doesn't die when a person walks away
Love is a stitch in the chest that remains
It can't quite ever go away
And I think you know this, but -
You are too scared to be alone
Too scared to live without a love
So jump and jump from this love to that one
I think you are scared because you know
That you can't ever love yourself

Fingers like crayons,
melting over flames,
dripping on your eyelids.
You have your
technicolor world
without the ecstasy.
You told me it wasn't possible.
You told me it wasn't possible
to get drunk without your dad.
You told me it was Pepsi,
it was Diet Coke.
You told me it was love.
It was something like
decay,
in fall,
in the brush,
the words your mother
swept under the rug.

And  when  his  usefulness  had  gone.
They  just  cast  him  aside.
And  on  the  final  downhill.
He  began  to  slide.

Rejected  after  all  his  work.
Visions  now  all  gone.
He  knew  full  well  his  time  was  near.
He  knew  he  had  not  long.

As  an  old  man  disillusioned.
And  weary  from  his  fight.
He  spent  in  sad  remembrance.
His  final  lonely  night.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I'll prepare a boat
to send my stupidity aboard
and provide it with a paddle
driven by the regretful memories that often made me shatter.

I had a cold shower, and i didnt even notice