She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
and doesn't know the crew
I never tell her my story
She reads every page herself
She never touches the exhibits
the essences of me
elegantly
arranged upon the shelves
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad shes just a friend
and never knew the crew
She paces in silence
Slight smirk under her eyes
As she wanders around my gallery
galaxies
analogies of abnormal realities
Seen from within the guise
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And will never know the crew
Every so often she pauses
Her footsteps resound
The curator looks up interested
and solicited
a reaction uninhibited
From a mind profound
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And doesn't want to know the crew
Her analysis is always unique
And as if she was the artist
The curator thinks, in retrospect
she is correct.
As she walks out the exit
Her path is marked by a trail of stardust.
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And is unknown to the crew
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
and doesn't know the crew
I never tell her my story
She reads every page herself
She never touches the exhibits
the essences of me
elegantly
arranged upon the shelves
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad shes just a friend
and never knew the crew
She paces in silence
Slight smirk under her eyes
As she wanders around my gallery
galaxies
analogies of abnormal realities
Seen from within the guise
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And will never know the crew
Every so often she pauses
Her footsteps resound
The curator looks up interested
and solicited
a reaction uninhibited
From a mind profound
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And doesn't want to know the crew
Her analysis is always unique
And as if she was the artist
The curator thinks, in retrospect
she is correct.
As she walks out the exit
Her path is marked by a trail of stardust.
She always knows
She always knows what to do
I'm glad she's just a friend
And is unknown to the crew
Differentiating between the cracks and folds of my mind.
© March 6th, 2013 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved
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