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sgholterPoems
I lean back on my factory-fresh Couch (that still smells of IKEA) And turn that Jeff Buckley's Grace Up so loud the cat escapes under The bed; ears flat, wide eyed... And remember. I flip through My own history -forgotten love, Nights of such beauty they Forged themselves onto my Mind. I see myself stronger; Dumber. Rougher hands and Mind. I hear Chris Cornell and Tori Amos in shared recollection. I walked Oslo's paved streets From a job I loathed. But it was summer. I was free. I was a rock star waiting To be. I see hopes I had that remind me It's not too late for that. And begin to resonate with *This is your time. This is when you choose your Future. Choose. It's never too late for Anything*.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
I Was a Rock Star Waiting to Be
I lean back on my factory-fresh Couch (that still smells of IKEA) And turn that Jeff Buckley's Grace Up so loud the cat escapes under The bed; ears flat, wide eyed... And remember. I flip through My own history -forgotten love, Nights of such beauty they Forged themselves onto my Mind. I see myself stronger; Dumber. Rougher hands and Mind. I hear Chris Cornell and Tori Amos in shared recollection. I walked Oslo's paved streets From a job I loathed. But it was summer. I was free. I was a rock star waiting To be. I see hopes I had that remind me It's not too late for that. And begin to resonate with *This is your time. This is when you choose your Future. Choose. It's never too late for Anything*.
sgholter
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sgholter
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
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