Sooner or later
you find yourself in one room
just one.
In the middle of the morning where the moon never sets:
it’s not perdition
You think you’ve scaled a gloomy height,
And you’re waiting on a mystery beauty
No you don’t need a friend
a hundred thousand, they’ve done it all before,
They lifted kings upside down, rose up out of craters, shook down God
it’s that sparkling fat chance amidst the hour of rapid eye movement
Turn bad to good, they say, emotive as a breeze-block
Dream better somethings up, reach backwards to someone that felt.
Well it’s your problem
© Copyright David Bosworth March 2014
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Sooner or later
you find yourself in one room
just one.
In the middle of the morning where the moon never sets:
it’s not perdition
You think you’ve scaled a gloomy height,
And you’re waiting on a mystery beauty
No you don’t need a friend
a hundred thousand, they’ve done it all before,
They lifted kings upside down, rose up out of craters, shook down God
it’s that sparkling fat chance amidst the hour of rapid eye movement
Turn bad to good, they say, emotive as a breeze-block
Dream better somethings up, reach backwards to someone that felt.
Well it’s your problem
© Copyright David Bosworth March 2014
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