I'm a barely spinning, broken piece of
Alcoholic machinery
I grew tired of waiting, losing sight
the farther I get from whats near to me
And it's never been more clear
I'm still trapped with me in here
we are reassembling
into curious new things
I'm a treasure buried, sunken chest of
hope and youthful anxiety
I'm reluctant chances furtive glances
growing pains and recovery
Rocky mountains held me close
you held what you loved the most
the golden hour to the west
for a second there was rest
I'm an accidental, sentimental photograph
from when life was kind
I'm a new fond memory, a change of heart
reminding you that there is still time
There's a statewide fire ban
but you could torch me where I stand
or keep me pretty on your shelf
at least I didn't lose myself
Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 9:00 PM UTC
I'm a barely spinning, broken piece of
Alcoholic machinery
I grew tired of waiting, losing sight
the farther I get from whats near to me
And it's never been more clear
I'm still trapped with me in here
we are reassembling
into curious new things
I'm a treasure buried, sunken chest of
hope and youthful anxiety
I'm reluctant chances furtive glances
growing pains and recovery
Rocky mountains held me close
you held what you loved the most
the golden hour to the west
for a second there was rest
I'm an accidental, sentimental photograph
from when life was kind
I'm a new fond memory, a change of heart
reminding you that there is still time
There's a statewide fire ban
but you could torch me where I stand
or keep me pretty on your shelf
at least I didn't lose myself
Request permission to use this poem