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tommy-johnsonPoems
Look at yourself All ***** Blackened with a sour demeanor Rip the top off Take a look inside An endless carousel See the stars And be thrown to the next page Never to come back again The stories for the next chapter Clenching to previous excursions Remnants, recollections of once new beginnings Once you start you can’t stop Can't turn and have second thoughts Once you’re out You’re gone Falling to pieces Smoking, dangling A mental spasm A lapse, relapse Push them away They speak too loud and bright A half baked scheme It’s something to pass the time Hedges of red Busted fence posts Inconspicuously Punctured shell To the roots Vibrations to my brain Purple furlough Roofs fall Pedal till they bleed Bleed dry to the bone Till the bone breaks And the pain grapples me into submission We ignore the fruits in front Of us for the mirages We pretend are real Putting In hope and taking out lies Riding the ignorant air of pride Crawl in desperation to continue It wouldn’t lie Stick to the plan Raise the voice So they hear and believe We won’t stop till it’s found They won’t stop till I’m in the ground Buried, out to pasture Fresh fertilizer here I hear his deceit meshed Deeply in his voice Yet I fool myself to Believe due to my denial of doubts It won’t let me continue Smile for no reason When I think about it Disorientation follows Don’t utter another word The grass is dead on both sides So let’s make them equally green Plant the seed Pack a lunch As we walk, we remember The lesson we were taught to never Tread here
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
Self-reconciliation
Look at yourself All ***** Blackened with a sour demeanor Rip the top off Take a look inside An endless carousel See the stars And be thrown to the next page Never to come back again The stories for the next chapter Clenching to previous excursions Remnants, recollections of once new beginnings Once you start you can’t stop Can't turn and have second thoughts Once you’re out You’re gone Falling to pieces Smoking, dangling A mental spasm A lapse, relapse Push them away They speak too loud and bright A half baked scheme It’s something to pass the time Hedges of red Busted fence posts Inconspicuously Punctured shell To the roots Vibrations to my brain Purple furlough Roofs fall Pedal till they bleed Bleed dry to the bone Till the bone breaks And the pain grapples me into submission We ignore the fruits in front Of us for the mirages We pretend are real Putting In hope and taking out lies Riding the ignorant air of pride Crawl in desperation to continue It wouldn’t lie Stick to the plan Raise the voice So they hear and believe We won’t stop till it’s found They won’t stop till I’m in the ground Buried, out to pasture Fresh fertilizer here I hear his deceit meshed Deeply in his voice Yet I fool myself to Believe due to my denial of doubts It won’t let me continue Smile for no reason When I think about it Disorientation follows Don’t utter another word The grass is dead on both sides So let’s make them equally green Plant the seed Pack a lunch As we walk, we remember The lesson we were taught to never Tread here
tommy-johnson
Written by
tommy-johnson
Colombian
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
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