ghosts lined up on the wall
no waiting now just be ready for the fall
for the beginning of it all
a dream colliding into a new light
the old ghosts fight the never-ending fight
the wall buckles under the pressure of it all
no more ghosts lined up on the wall
the life of the dead leave an empty rattle
the worlds most silent battle
step left march right the beat of the drum
the new sound makes the ghosts reminisce
of the worlds most silent battle
the new chime awakes the heaviest
There Is No Escape Not Even In Death

Regarding entitlement
What is really true?
Look at the contract;
What are you entitled to?
Who told you what,
When and where,
And why should anyone
Besides yourself care?

What are the terms of
This entitlement scheme?
Are they exactly as
Precise as they seem?
What was promised
That you feel cheated?
Is there an inheritance
That has not been treated?

Are you an heir or else
A member of royalty
And thus deserve to
Have absolute loyalty?
Are there lands and deeds
You feel are owed you
Or is it just that you feel
Everyone is below you?

It would help you and us
If you could narrow this down.
Do you feel you own everything
And everyone in around?
Do you feel we should bend
And bow as you pass
And that maybe we should
Kiss your noble ***?

I think somewhere down the line in our parents' efforts to give us everything they never had, they forgot to give us what they Did have~

Grandpa had grit
He knew how to fight
Not for sport
but for that which was right

Up at dawn
His trade was life
Doing what he must
Dusting off strife

He'd say "It's just a reminder
that we're all still alive"
He'd just square back his shoulders
and cut Hell down to size

All but gone are the days
of men standing strong
Everything's grey
there's no right or wrong

We sit back and wonder
where our glory days went
I saw them galloping towards purgatory
saddled with truth, upon common sense

do you feel it?
the drought that
striketh thy heart
when the nights
aren't cold
and the winds
won't blow?

can you see it?
the shadows that lurk
who dim the soul
when eyes have changed
and turn thy
perspective into dust?

can you hear it?
that loud banging noise
inside
the waking sound
in the morning
that is your heartbeat?

have you tasted
life without flavor?
like a rainbow
whose shades
are only of gray

can't you smell the aroma
of freshly picked flowers?
soon to die
soon to wither
soon to fade a w  a    y

-

as you have picked me up
from the ground
so shall you leave me be

Now I've tried creating something from nothing,
But nothing is all I end up creating,

By definition by writing this down is contrasting to what I'm saying,

But Hell,

Something comes from somewhere,
But nothing, nothing can come from anywhere.

My Words
My thoughts
my lines
None of it works
Some of it rhymes
is it even supposed to rhyme?
It takes up so much time
wasted time?
Maybe
But I like wasting my time
With little notes and little rhymes
A thought here
And a doodle there
but whats the point?
Does there have to be a point?
Cant we just be
Cant we speak and laugh and doodle and rhyme  
And all chime in together to have a good time
Without there really being a point?
I believe your rambling again
Yes, yes I know
My apologies and good day
misses and misters
Good sir's and good ma'am's

I cannot not how you smell
so I project my own desire
onto your unknown skin.

Patchouli. A scent that
makes him instantly goofy
and transports me at once
to the decade before
you even drew breath.

Even now that scent
on a crowded street
turns my head in wonder.

Scent, taste and touch:  
our first mammalian memories.

Do not be troubled lover,
I will love and linger
on any olfactory lingerie
you care to wear or none.

My second favorite is just
sunshine on bare skin.

But any whiff of you will
become part of my heart
and I will inhale you
deep into my soul.

~mce