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I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song
Three minutes thirteen seconds
So, it wasn't quite that long
Filled with love and disappointments
All the things a good song needs
I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song

They said "write something simple"
I said "I'll see what I can do"
They told me "you can do it"
"you're the best at what you do"

I needed something with emotion
Something new and something hot
I wrote for fourteen hours
And this is what I got

I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song
Three minutes thirteen seconds
So, it wasn't quite that long
Filled with love and disappointments
All the things a good song needs
I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song

It was a little love song
You know...people could relate
I played it to the band
They said "Man, this song is great"

It's a little bit of Shakespeare
With some Poe there on the side
The song was full of highs and lows
It would take you for a ride

I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song
Three minutes thirteen seconds
So, it wasn't quite that long
Filled with love and disappointments
All the things a good song needs
I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song

In the end when it was finished
It charted, not for long
Then I realized the story here
Was the story 'bout the song

So, I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song
Three minutes thirteen seconds
So, it wasn't quite that long
Filled with love and disappointments
All the things a good song needs
I wrote a song about a story about a story about a song
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2018
Tonight of all nights.
I am here with you.
Clouds of smoke
Squeezed together in festive occasion.
Brown liquor,
Swallowed in warm smile
Lips a silky smooth.
You magically appear,
Gliding across the stage-
Short hair, diverse in curve.
Black dress,
Singer, songstress.
The maestra of all my desire,
At first everything was quiet
then you sing.
You sing this beautiful song.
Words filled with passion.
Raw, heartfelt.
Each word penetrating deep.
My soul, my very being
Leaving me.
Spiraling in urgent need,
This internal urge to jump out of my seat,
Pulled by the tug of your every word.
Vocalized by the depth of yours.
These words brought to life by your voice-
This beautiful voice.
This song highlighted,
The bright light shone against your head.
Short hair, diverse in curve.
Black dress,
One side longer than the other.
Singer, songstress.
The midnight of all my dream,
I came tonight just for the occasion.
My face bright red
Squeezed tight by fever.
The pull of your cigarette.
A residue of ash left of where I sat.
Every part of me gone with the flick of your wrist.
Tonight of all nights.
I am here with you.
The best of me lost among the crowd.
Scattered in a room of dark faces.
Squeezed together, Tight fitting building
Brown liquor,
Lips a silky smooth.
Tickets for the next show months away
astraea Sep 2018
what would i be if not for you?
i’d be alone, wandering, lovely,
but c’mon i heard your voice,
and suddenly how could i not love you?
we laugh about our stories, we laugh about their stories.
and suddenly i want to make our own.

that night, it got late, and i didn’t want to go home.
the music we were playing, i imagine you singing my words,
and staying lost in this beautiful place with you.

everything, i pretend it’s all about someone else, you think it’s all about someone else,
but everything you say falls into my next poem.
that night we watched stars. the time i told you we should do something together.
and it’s true, i’m afraid of falling for you,
but i’m even more afraid i’m not.

and when i hear your voice, it’s nostalgic, because today i have these memories
-when we didn’t know anything, when all we had was stories,
when we believe in epics and magic and hated real life,
when we were a fantasy, and now we’re a reality,
and i’m nostalgic about our old nostalgia.

i’m also afraid we’ll be just like them,
and i’ll hear another voice, and i’ll be happy, because for a second, i think it’s you,
and then i’ll remember. see?
i’m good at making this about them, because it is about them,
but really i’m hoping you’ll ask me one day, and i’ll say yes to you.
and that night, the night will grow late and we’ll lay down together and just stare upwards.

hey moon -you know that lyrics, don’t you sweetheart, oh god,
what if i said too much?
i’m so afraid you’ll never talk to me again,
but if i love you, this will all be worth it sometime soon.
and pay attention -there’s a line for you and here it is:
everything i’ve written has started to sound like you, and i’m dangerously close to falling off the knife’s edge of my feelings.
and pay attention -because there are lines for you in every poem.
inspired by c'mon, northern downpour and ryden.
There was a person

Sat at the garden

Sat sad and alone

Looking at the roses

It was one of roses

Moved towards him

Saying and telling him

What’s making the moon

Looking upset and sad?

All the world equals that!”

He looked at her

Saying “do you talk me”

She said ,she said”

There must be guy

Sit beside me”

He laughed and looked shame

He said “ but I”

She interrupted” you are the one

You are the moon

Of that beauty garden”

He wanted to praise

She said to him “why?

Why are you sad?

Why your matter is bad?

Who makes you grieves?

Who closes these roses?

Who tries to spread sadness?

He must be the **** person

He” I am a singer

When I went to sing

I lost feeling and meaning

But I remember every word

The attendance hate me

They lisped by bad word

The producers hated me

They didn’t want to make me

Again as they thought I am frustrate

She said “sing!”

“What ?“ the guy answered

She repeated

He stood

Saying his song

She said “bad, bad”

You must have feeling

You must know meaning

And get it from your heart

Do as I do”

He began to sing

She do some movements

She was imitated

She said “now go and sing”

I will attend your party”

He went there

His turn came

He appeared on the stage

He remembered his failed

He remembered his gained

He remembered every undertaker

Refused to call him as a singer

He remembered how he argued

The last one to introduce him

It was the last chance

He looked at the attendance

He didn’t see her

He felt with big fear

He tried to do a verse

He couldn’t open his mouth

The attendance yelled and cursed

Till he saw her entering

She stood moving

The movements as the verses

He did the same movements

The heat of the party increased

The attendance did as he did

The attendance wanted it more

He repeated it more

He became a famous star

She brought every party

She learnt him carefully

He imitated her very neatly

Till she disappeared suddenly

He stood in the stage

Waiting to her immersion

But she didn't come finally

He couldn't do sing

He went to ask about her

He know her home

He knew she was gone

"Dead ,dead that is bad

Why does the death take every wealth?

Why does the death take the best?

And leaves who does not worth?

To be in that life

Why did you death take her?

I love her , her ,her?

I would marry her

That was after the last party

Then peace on her

Sleep in tranquility"

He went to sing again

After the undertakers argued

He stood on the stage again

He remembered her shine

He remembered her smile

He remembered her hands

How move them to argue him

He remembered her moon

How did it guide him!

How did he bright his mind

And converts his dark to light!

He couldn't sing a word

Till he saw her spirit

Entered the hall

She moved as the past

She was imitated

Till the song is finished

He fell dead

His heart was carrying

The mounts of that world

Of sad and bad think

His river of life was stopped

His air was not blew up

His eyes was closed

Only her face up

At the sky moved up
who fails in life, who lost hope ,there is always light comes every day when the sun rises
Aa Harvey Jul 2018
Cry no tears for me

The famous singer walks alone,
Through half-remembered good times,
Through a library of songs
And all she can see at the end of the road,
Is a life without regrets
And a story told.

(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
A psychic connection

I have planted a seed inside your mind,
So read my thoughts from time to time.
Let me become a part of your conscience;
If we move as one through this world,
We can offer each other guidance.

We share an understanding and a way of thinking.
A poet explaining and a song writer singing.
The very best of the best;
The best we have to give.
Life is a constant test
And we must learn how to live.

Forever we are changing, evolving day to day.
In a future version of ourselves, we will know what to say.
From the babies we were, we have grown to become strong of thought.
We have passion and clarification;
We now know all that which we have been taught and so much more.

From school until now, we are constantly learning;
From baby to adult, we are advancing.
A hope is all they had, the Mom and the Dad;
Now I am simply here to give thanks.

The more we grow, the more we know.
After a time of being just a person that follows,
We are now strong enough to walk alone…
We are no longer a clone.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
icantbearmyself Jun 2018
I used to
want to be
a singer
or someone
to bring change

all I want
is to become
a strawberry
with sugar

so once you
might find me
to taste
Robin Carretti May 2018
The trees they speak 2-B
blessed to be spoken for
The Gingerly lemon tea 4 -2
Four letters H-E-L-P me through
Four people Fast Wendy 4 for a
4 burger Amber circus jiggler
pulled together by time why 4:44?
The force love forever 4 leaves
on the clover reading tea leaves
At the four corners
Amber the corner of her lip
ride the
Royce Royce Lover
crash it's over-

Slenderman slumber
Ember hearty
Harvest soup
Amber brighten
the party scoop

1- Hot it is (..)
2- Is it wrong
3-Wrong if not sold out to Uncle Sam
What was?
4- Was she the SOS
5- SOS sweet outburst did she belong
6- Belong and betrayed I made the song
7- Song The redesign, please help
8- Help wanted not just any sign
9- Sign was stolen and Amber rose
10- Rose so ember bright he gulped
11- Gulped left with one (.)
12- One far two stars bygones
13- Bygone the last line 13 I= phones

deleted numbers
Now don't disappear on me
Getting the last word at the end of the sentence then carrying it to the front of the sentence this is not the name game. We are singers at a party but sly foxes like a pandora box  add your number your next
my raspy
voice is
euphoria but
revere sole
of she
that rejoice
with spontaneity
and invariably
my unrehearsed
vocal is
flutelike always
depict its
comp as
discretion with
a valet
in Wodehouse
novels indirect
A song with soul
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