Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I wrote a song about you The first I've ever done I've been playing seventeen years You'll never hear it sung If I have to breathe the lyrics I'll set fire to my tongue I never talk about myself because then you could not run I'm a lie behind a fountain The sun is to the moon I hate the outer space I lay inside—entombed The granite cast of actors Their eyes are made of gold I'll take their scripts and hearts and souls and sell them for more gold Your smile led me in circles You sought for what you sold It was simply circulation Your hands were awfully cold Take it while it's cold It still won't splatter Drink it on the stove It still won't matter Seal it's lips to kiss It still won't chatter Raze it's crops to dust It still won't gather Strip it from its lenses It still won't stare Rip it from the moonlight It still won't glare Take it like a pill It won't be taken lightly It's in my heart—in yours It will never grasp you tightly It's never holding still You simply can't deceive it It just misunderstands What's wrong with you, is wrong with me You lack the essence of a friend Things grow from roots that split The strand means to an end I don't like to say favorite It has a way of changing plans I'll look down at you "Your hair—it still looks nice" You'll look down at me I won't be looking twice
0
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
Seventeenth
I wrote a song about you The first I've ever done I've been playing seventeen years You'll never hear it sung If I have to breathe the lyrics I'll set fire to my tongue I never talk about myself because then you could not run I'm a lie behind a fountain The sun is to the moon I hate the outer space I lay inside—entombed The granite cast of actors Their eyes are made of gold I'll take their scripts and hearts and souls and sell them for more gold Your smile led me in circles You sought for what you sold It was simply circulation Your hands were awfully cold Take it while it's cold It still won't splatter Drink it on the stove It still won't matter Seal it's lips to kiss It still won't chatter Raze it's crops to dust It still won't gather Strip it from its lenses It still won't stare Rip it from the moonlight It still won't glare Take it like a pill It won't be taken lightly It's in my heart—in yours It will never grasp you tightly It's never holding still You simply can't deceive it It just misunderstands What's wrong with you, is wrong with me You lack the essence of a friend Things grow from roots that split The strand means to an end I don't like to say favorite It has a way of changing plans I'll look down at you "Your hair—it still looks nice" You'll look down at me I won't be looking twice
Wallpaperplates
Written by
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem