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Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
Flames consume her lips
Light dances on her fingertips
Her eyes are cold with desire
How can i light her fire?
To make her laugh dance and smile
Even though its been awhile
My brain is wired
And at the same time so very tired
With all the games i play
All the things that come but never stay
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
I think with half empty words
They strike clashing minor chords
They bounce and resonate in my head
With all the lies i have been fed
By people close and far
These things start to scar
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
Tell me who you are.
Any old lie will do
Lies will get you far
They speak louder then you
You drive fast down the road
Specters of the past on your tail
They just add to your load
You hear them wail
Wailing so many different names
Ones i have never heard
Your an expert at games
So many lines blurred
At the next stop i leave
You hardly look at me
You hardly grieve
I could never see what you see
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
When she talks you can hear the smile
And she does it with such style
You watch from a distance
Your friends offer you assistance
But your too scared
And look a little impaired
So you wait till the fear goes away
and you can go make her day
Then that time has come
To stop looking so glum
You ask her out and she says yes
it was a success
Patrick McCombs Dec 2010
I take a hot long shower
At this odd hour
The sun is long set
As i get soaking wet
The water washes away the dirt
And with it all the hurt
My muscles relax and my brain sighs
In here i sever all ties
The constant sound of water against tiles
So many long miles
Patrick McCombs Dec 2010
Borrowed time and dying love
He craves an answer from above
He  sits with himself alone
Curled up on his bed with his phone
He stares at the bright screen
Wondering what it could mean
He is lost
He gazes at the falling frost
A harsh wind blows
He forgets all he knows
The warm touch of sunshine
The laughs of a good time.
He hides in a cocoon of sheets
Mindlessly checking status updates and tweets
He wishes for a sign
To see everything fine.
He soon falls asleep
Falling into forests dark and deep.
Patrick McCombs Dec 2010
I wear this tattered shirt
It has a little dirt
The sleeves are too long
And the buttons are wrong
It has diagonal stripes
And a little pocket for wipes
Its red white and yellow
People think i am an odd fellow
I wear this shirt everyday
No matter what people say
Even if the tag is in Latin
It may be expensive satin
But i love my shirt
I'll wear it into the dirt.
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