Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
772 · Nov 2011
Promotion of Pain
Grant Cox Nov 2011
I'll let you be who you want to be
but you don't know who that is

Through blurry eyes you examine pain
but that heals nothing here

Continue in a sober trance
a ******* forms inside

No air or light can heal the lance
when wrapped up in a lie

Melancholy self fulfills
and self defeats your plans

The world conforms to inner wills
be blessings or be damns

All the unknown and the past
form everything intern

But when you focus on the worst
your soul can never learn

How long until the beauty dies
receiving no air from mournful sighs

I tell you this and know it's true
that others see the real you

It's not the person you call me
but everything that you don't see

I've watched and studied all you do
and learned a certain trait

That happiness comes through release
not when you lock the gate

So don't be scared to face the pain
admit that it's inside

It's always there, it's part of us
no matter how you've cried

Just know that you can stem the flow
and live life fairly well

Be happy now, the time has come
you've already walked through Hell
555 · Nov 2011
An Accidental Gift
Grant Cox Nov 2011
A single strand,
it weaves itself around
the empty space that circumvents my alarm clock.

The monotonous noise reminding me
of the day's responsibilities overshadowed
instantly by a thread.

A piece of you,
an accidental gift
more personal than breath.

Things unintentional are more severe
than those thought and poured over.

Delicate and strong,
this proteinacious silk
stands up to the rigors of my examination.

A tangible illustration of your life,
now,
with me,
no one  can have that but me.

In reality more precious than words
or emotions that you would offer freely.

This piece of time,
that you have let slip from your grasp,
only to settle on my nightstand.

The gift of a person,
a soul,
cannot be matched by any other.

This is what we live for,
what we hang on to,
a single thread.

— The End —