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alankPoems
I grab at illusions They fog my brain And emotions Then softly melt I acquire crates Of love and vows Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way. Sample my elixir I hear the gypsy woman A cure for the broken heart A balm for the scars of love I collect the cures They merely feed the disease Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way I seem to strive For second best It has its charms And lower expectations That sharp pinnacle In the blazing midday sun Exists for climbers Scaling their dreams I prefer to seek The plaintiff plateau Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Things
I grab at illusions They fog my brain And emotions Then softly melt I acquire crates Of love and vows Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way. Sample my elixir I hear the gypsy woman A cure for the broken heart A balm for the scars of love I collect the cures They merely feed the disease Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way I seem to strive For second best It has its charms And lower expectations That sharp pinnacle In the blazing midday sun Exists for climbers Scaling their dreams I prefer to seek The plaintiff plateau Upon the mantel they stay But some things get lost Along the way
alank
Written by
alank
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
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