The poem of madness
I woke up to write
Your smile above the sadness
Just a bit too bright
The painting of flower beds
Getting smashed beneath a reckless shoe
That time you tore to shreds
Everything I thought I knew
The song of a trumpet choir
As if proclaiming a sin
Turns as softly as young fire
To a lullaby followed by a violin
I'm far from the smartest
Beneath your mysterious heart
I may be a natural artist
But you're the natural art
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
The poem of madness
I woke up to write
Your smile above the sadness
Just a bit too bright
The painting of flower beds
Getting smashed beneath a reckless shoe
That time you tore to shreds
Everything I thought I knew
The song of a trumpet choir
As if proclaiming a sin
Turns as softly as young fire
To a lullaby followed by a violin
I'm far from the smartest
Beneath your mysterious heart
I may be a natural artist
But you're the natural art
