shawnr72

shawnr72 Jul 2014

Struggle you see in my words,
You may be right.
The void you see in my eyes,
its not your imagination.
I once had a handful of things that were worth a million to me.
Confidence you hear in my voice,
you may be wrong.
The smile you see on my face,
it's not your imagination.
because I once had a handful of things that were worth a million to me.
The things you see I surround myself with,
you may be jealous.
The smile you see on my face,
just goes better with everything around me.
but I once had a handful of things that were worth a million to me.

The cars that you see in the streets,
will they fulfill your goals?
The anxious momentum to brush your lips on someone particular,
will you dream of that anymore?
The three bedroom condo in the sky with 6 big screen TVs,
will that be big enough for you alone?
The unaccounted moments of a night wondering the unexplored,
are those just casualties of life?

I once had a handful of things that were worth a million to me.
I now have a million things that are worth nothing to me.

#love #life #adventure #lost #explore

shawnr72 Mar 2014

A shell of once was

I remain a shell of what was once human,
a walking talking deception to the world,
i remain as though everything in life didn't change me,
for the better of which it has.
I remain a scale of what was once something colourful,
not the most colourful, but bright to the masses I traversed,
I am an ocean that has lost its habitats,
calm and stormy but lifeless at the very least.
I remain a mere spectator in what some may call my story,
a rare interaction with the ensemble at times,
I play all the roles and manipulate their foils,
everything but the outcome is within my control.

shawnr72 Jan 2014

Regret is a quotient of reason

There is no more than the scent on my sheets, but i'll be on yours, for some time.
Some nights will pass and the universe that existed with us together will be slowly drowned,
out by the busy on-going hum of the people living around us.
we will slowly let the moments that brought us so close unravel,
no more will a vivid quilt exist to keep us warm, just the unfamiliar pieces,
pieces that without time, careful work, and magic, mean nothing.
We can salvage the mess and design something new and brave,
but like a lost letter re-written, you can try your hardest and never recreate the same meaning.
There is no more than the tire marks in the snow leading you out of my driveway,
Had my tire marks traced yours that day, would I still be writing this?

— The End —