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We are a collection
of fear
of what we will
regret
when we are no
longer able to
take in breath

Everyone fears
leaving a blank
journal
behind
For those
readers who
survive
There shall be no shelter
From shadowed hypocrisy.
For the stars shine bright and just
That all the mortal men may see.
All that you wish.
All that you believe.
Are just two diverging branches
From the same forgotten tree.

Rotten with the cynicism of age
The bark chips fast,
Squalid lackluster page.
Built upon the decay of rage
Fallow thoughts they plough the land.
Reaped by those deemed unworthy.
Truth uprooted by savage hand.
 May 2016 PaintItGrey
GaryFairy
in your eyes, my friend
i can see the times that your mind was bent
just waiting for the end
wondering where the good times have went

in our minds, my friend
there's a paradise that we could never get
and there's a way to mend
wondering why we haven't found it yet
acoustic song
 May 2016 PaintItGrey
ryn
Older
 May 2016 PaintItGrey
ryn
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
An old photograph of myself inspired this.
 May 2016 PaintItGrey
Torin
I want nothing more
Sea floors where we find the remnants of ancient merchants
Sunken while simply searching for profit
Soul entwined in sand and phosphorus
Body becoming whole with the glimpse of tomorrow
The marrow of my bones dwindling as light becomes food for my soul
I want nothing more that this
That I set my youthful mind on a distant star
And even time that ends will not keep me from reaching
Wine corks opened by delicate hands
Fingers that touch softly making me feel more
The warmth of my skin
The sound of my love in your beating heart
I want nothing more!
Nothing at all
Not a fistful of money and a palace to sleep in
Private jets and private islands
Where the air sings my name as I glide through her
And the sand on the beach wants me to lay beside her
I want nothing more
Than to be as beautiful as I am to you now
In my prime years of life, young, and eager hearted
Your visceral experience that taught me to dream
My dreams that spoke through the fog standing heavy in your soul
Your soul as a place my beauty alone reaches
I want
As simply said as the forgotten memories
The dead languages and foreign customs
The consumed today as garbage tomorrow
The son of the sun only rising knowing he will set
And be a glorious evening before all manner of darkness falls
I want only
That the beauty displayed by my face
In it's fresh form and grace
Is not
Could not
Would never be!
As beautiful to you
As my soul grown old
I want
That you will think me
As beautiful in my twilight
As I was
When I was young
That with each passing day
You love me more

I want
Yeah, my notes would only have to be; impeccable soul.  Who can write this?!!!!!
I'm a little drunk, still..... If this doesn't make you feel, you must not have read it.
By god, if this goes unnoticed, I lose a little more faith. Maybe the onion rings I enjoy are only meant for the gods
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