Sitting in the front of shack, I'm watching the rain falling. Everything is so fresh, All colours are very clear.
My cat is watching me, Quietly from the high, Wishing come down to me, In his huge green eyes.
But he didn't make a move; It's all in water and wet. But that's ok i guess, Still watching the rain.
The cat cought my look, And i cought his look; Playing the old look game, Who's gonna blink first.
Thinking on victory, i lost. The game made me laugh. Both, still watching the rain, Only in a different way.
This poem i wrote in 2 minutes. I don't know why but this moment was very inspiring. Anyway, i like this small and simple things that make me happy. This one was literally a droplet/little moment in my life.
I was young, we were naive we knew we had the option, but didn't see why anyone would ever leave it was easier back then to give the benefit of doubt to all the words rolling off of a forked tongue it was easy to believe when we were young. We were naive.
Maybe they do it to drive me crazy I don't know But there are words constantly knocking on my skull, lining up, and begging to be chosen I never choose wisely I'm irrational and sometimes I suspect I do it on purpose
I've never been one of those girls, you know, one of those girls who looks happy One of those people that are easily approached I'm uninviting Like a shack at the bottom of a dirt road that's been boarded up and the property line is covered in caution tape
My antiquated style has people baffled My attitude turns people off And when I actually try to be likable, I end up hating myself
If there was a direction to go, I'd take it But every paved path is closed off for construction And pretty soon, there won't be any direction at all Just one place where we stand and never move again
We gather here a consciousness collected, coincidentally of convenience. Derelict, the meek once scattered were rejected, by grace discovers providence as brothers in uncommon sense- -abilities receive projected condemnation, misdirected.
Come be who you are, you have done well-come be who you are.
I want to live in a tin roofed shack with a cooking fire underneath that curls up its smoke from under an iron *** watch blue dark clouds Roll in over the hours so I can hear it's music beat a rhythm out on my tin roof
Comes quite quickly end denies No longer able fantasize What a fool prioritize To feed myself such wicked lies Overwhelms in tortured cries The only love ive known still dies What a fool, you, I despise Feebly I demonize Oh god agree **** compromise Take me instead this ****** surprise So ******* wrong, internalize To walk your shoes arent my size Someday dunno when realiez The good, the bad, and always dies
We all born will live to die Be so torn, we'll give our lies Free to mourn all ****** goodbyes Agree adorned with compromise
I'm still here Do they hear? By all means what I held dear Forest falling, no one near I donno quite how I appear All I know is we're
Alive I'm still here Revive good cheer To thrive my dear The drive to steer Alive we hear
Alive we're here
From What the Shack Means to Me, prompted in November 2014 at www.tinychat.com/theroarshack