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ricknightPoems
You can only dream of places I have been Mentally, All the things I did for my family, All they did, instead of helping me, Is trying to put sense in me, When I come to a point Where I am about to plead insanity, A room of variances, Out of body experiences, Mental ******* Heart full of spasms, The ones my past couldn’t fathom, This ain’t a struggler’s anthem, But I can’t help but, Generalize, And I can’t undermine, That I felt heaven, At least on my fingertips, I found hope, At the brink of disbelief, Don’t blame the postman, If you put the wrong address, Life is a ***** depending on how you dress her, Let the broken glass, Mess up the dresser, Rosewood, Redwood, any wood, If I could I would, The more I clench my fists, the more sand I loose, But I choose not to, just my screws, My life is like a travelogue, No just ticket needed just travel along, Like a broken pen and a moleskin, A DSLR and an eye to watch closely, No backpacker, Just a bad actor, Modern day rye catcher, Self financer , A mere puppet on the string, That life hangs by, finding questions to some bad answers, Putting up with bad promise makers, When a promise may curse, Life is just a makeshift, Life is what you make it, Or make of it*
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Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 11:49 AM UTC
Untitled (please suggest title)
You can only dream of places I have been Mentally, All the things I did for my family, All they did, instead of helping me, Is trying to put sense in me, When I come to a point Where I am about to plead insanity, A room of variances, Out of body experiences, Mental ******* Heart full of spasms, The ones my past couldn’t fathom, This ain’t a struggler’s anthem, But I can’t help but, Generalize, And I can’t undermine, That I felt heaven, At least on my fingertips, I found hope, At the brink of disbelief, Don’t blame the postman, If you put the wrong address, Life is a ***** depending on how you dress her, Let the broken glass, Mess up the dresser, Rosewood, Redwood, any wood, If I could I would, The more I clench my fists, the more sand I loose, But I choose not to, just my screws, My life is like a travelogue, No just ticket needed just travel along, Like a broken pen and a moleskin, A DSLR and an eye to watch closely, No backpacker, Just a bad actor, Modern day rye catcher, Self financer , A mere puppet on the string, That life hangs by, finding questions to some bad answers, Putting up with bad promise makers, When a promise may curse, Life is just a makeshift, Life is what you make it, Or make of it*
Written by
ricknight
Indian
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 11:49 AM UTC
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