You reach for the first thing
Your grubby metacarpus can find,
Be it a sabre or quill.
You ****** and parry away
In your journal,
All in the hopes you might
And strike it rich
At the same time.
But like Dido, Queen of Carthage,
Your bags of gold
Contain only sand.
This is your hapless undoing,
Don't use me as a crutch,
Fall on your own sword!
Talk about a fair amount
Of revisionist's history,
But we'll save that for
Suffice to say:
History is in the eyes of the beholder.
No need to correct me, I'm well aware the Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton duel was with pistols, not swords. Just thought I would take a little poetic license.
With every letter you wrote me,
I knew you'd be mine forever.
I thought you were mine forever.
You built me a whole new world,
Villages and castles,
Forests and oceans,
From just your paragraphs.
As I read them again,
I search for the time that you were mine,
I search for your love,
For the proof that you belonged to me.
The world seemed to burn down around me,
our world crumbling with our love.
Do you know what my mother said?
You're obsessed with your legacy,
paranoid with how they deceive you.
Now, you have forfeited the place in our bed,
The place in my heart,
The place in our love.
This was inspired by the son Burn from Hamilton: A Broadway Musical
War - New York
War - New York
After the war,
I went back to New York.
Alexander Hamilton began to C
How to account for his rise to the Top?
Man, the man is...
Are you aware that we're making History.?
(history has it's eyes on us)
N do N
O you O
N assume N
- you're -
S the S
T smartest T
O in O
P the P
room? (where it happened)
Why do you write like you're running out of time?
Write day and night like you're running out of time?
Ev'ry day you fight, like you're running out of time.
I practiced law,
C o n s t i t u t i o n a l c o n v e n t i o n
Aaron burr, sir.
It's the middle of the night.
Can we confer, sir?
Is this a legal matter?
Yes, and it's important to me.
What do you need?
Burr, you're a better lawyer than me.
Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed
For the notion of a nation we now get to build
For once in your life, take a stand with pride
I don't understand how you stand to the side
w a i t f o r i t
Sailing > London.
A n g e l i c a
The fact that you're alive is a miracle,
Just stay alive, that would be e n o u g h.
How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?
How do you write like you need it to survive?
How do you write ev'ry second you're alive?
Treasury or State
I have to leave
Look around, Look around
H e l p l e s s
He will never be statisfied
That would be e n o u g h
History has it's eyes on you
I AM NOT THROWING AWAY
So what did I miss?
Have you read this?
And we keep
a n y w a y s
Laugh and we cry Rise and we fall
And we make our mistakes.
And If there's a reason I'm still alive, when everyone who loves me has died, then I'm willing to wait for it.
wait for it
wait for it
wait for it
When they died, they left no instructions,
(What is a legacy?)
Hamilton's pace is relentless,
But some day he'll be tired.
And the only thing the world will hear,
Is a gunshot being fired.
If I waited just a bit longer, I'd seen the world was wide enough, for both Hamilton and me.
Your eyes hold skies,
And there is no limit.
You look back at me,
And I know, I'm
I want to drown in your voice,
When you tell me I'm yours
I'll fight every war in the world for you,
If you let me look into those
I'll write you a letter every day,
Because every day,
I get a little more
Then you walked in and my heart went BOOM.
'What if this bullet is my legacy?
If I throw away my shot, is this how you remember me?
The world is wide enough,
For our love to be.
Just you and me.
We can fight the world together.
At least I spent this forever with you.
You taught me what love was.
As long as I can stare into your eyes, I will lock my eyes every time.
What if this love is the only thing left?
What is a legacy?
Sometimes I catch a glimpse of the other side.
You let me make a difference.
We'll tell our story,
And we won't need to hide.
I'll see you on the other side, Mon amour.
If you know, then you know.
We both know what we know.
As Hamilton once said,
"I imagine death so much
it feels more like a memory."
The thoughts come often,
images of the ways I could **** myself
flashing in my mind.
I walk by a busy road
and I imagine jumping into it.
I stand on top of a building,
and I imagine falling off of it.
I see a bottle of pills,
and I wonder how many it would take to overdose
constantly looking for ways out,
searching for the end result of death.
My body has decided to shut off all emotions.
Just cold calculations.
My mind has started to drift away
from my body,
as if I am not of myself anymore.
I don't want to die,
and that is my biggest problem.
It seems as if my mind and my body
want me dead,
but I want me alive.
I can't hurt anyone else,
and I am too much of a coward
to go into the unknowns of the next world.
So I stay here,
trapped in my mind,
trapped in my memories,
trapped with the thoughts and calculations,
I'm a general,
A "poem" every day