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micheal-bevanPoems
You're something a little better then me I'm something worse. Sticky fingereds, Lifted purse. I'm a thief, a liar A seller, a buyer. You're a light I, the shadow. The viral killers, The taxing billers, Musical fillers, Blood spillers, You are my cure. Silver tongue rusted to dust. Speaking not a word, Relaying no dawn to dusk, I, the wingless Flightless bird. Keep bright this sinful day High above, never a glare A guarded front of relay To replace the smile rare. I do not dare. Blue bells ring delicate notes, Vibrations lift, soar and float, They are elated, they who hear Gifted are those, Granted the audible tear Of angels who weep, The bitter keep, Of beauty and turmoil sleep. I, who keeps the graves at bay Shadowed by the moon and day, Collect the tears of widows. They fall forever, for time is slow. Though all becomes the past, Life slips between us Always too fast. The sensation of love, The sweet sights of flightful doves, Never last. I, the worst You, the better between I, the nameless curse Of a hundred hexes Tenfold. You, the snowfall of light And life, in a hundred truths Always told, In sweet tongue. The song, flawless Perfectly sung. The smile never there, Has left. For I, the worst Am deaf. And could never hear The fall of weeping angels And audibul tears.
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Jan 4, 2010
Jan 4, 2010 at 11:17 AM UTC
I, The Worst
You're something a little better then me I'm something worse. Sticky fingereds, Lifted purse. I'm a thief, a liar A seller, a buyer. You're a light I, the shadow. The viral killers, The taxing billers, Musical fillers, Blood spillers, You are my cure. Silver tongue rusted to dust. Speaking not a word, Relaying no dawn to dusk, I, the wingless Flightless bird. Keep bright this sinful day High above, never a glare A guarded front of relay To replace the smile rare. I do not dare. Blue bells ring delicate notes, Vibrations lift, soar and float, They are elated, they who hear Gifted are those, Granted the audible tear Of angels who weep, The bitter keep, Of beauty and turmoil sleep. I, who keeps the graves at bay Shadowed by the moon and day, Collect the tears of widows. They fall forever, for time is slow. Though all becomes the past, Life slips between us Always too fast. The sensation of love, The sweet sights of flightful doves, Never last. I, the worst You, the better between I, the nameless curse Of a hundred hexes Tenfold. You, the snowfall of light And life, in a hundred truths Always told, In sweet tongue. The song, flawless Perfectly sung. The smile never there, Has left. For I, the worst Am deaf. And could never hear The fall of weeping angels And audibul tears.
Written by
micheal-bevan
Canadian
Jan 4, 2010
Jan 4, 2010 at 11:17 AM UTC
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