You're like
The city lights at night
A scratch in music
Exposed for too long
The coast line
A dislocated spine
Dream sequence on repeat
For years in the backseat
Slow guitar
And the North Star

She's special in how she alters time
Seconds don't matter in the same
Way they do when you're not around.

I'm scared to death of what comes next
But maybe it's not about how I feel.

If you count the nights
Look back in time
I try and remember when we were all fine
Before fun meant
Passed out drunk on the floor
Higher than ever before
Before fun meant
*** in the back of a car
We just wait next door
And now I see
You just replaced me
With every substance that you could see
So now do you see?
That I'm miss you
But are you missing me?

There was a Young Lady of Portugal,
Whose ideas were excessively nautical:
She climbed up a tree,
To examine the sea,
But declared she would never leave Portugal.

Their hearts conflicted with their heads
And soon they found the word they read
Evaporated into subconscious memories

And with that, he put down his pen
For a moment he sighed, then wrote again
Words that he wasn't sure any would see

He sat as lamplight lit the room
Fighting darkness, blackness looms
Shadows imitating his moving pen

In each and every word he'd bleed
His heart, his whole, his history
Although unsure any soul would read again

I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song
My woven whispers ****** ways and words
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong
Be part of an inner circle and be heard

Write with me, no lines will be false or blurred
Together we will create and be strong
There’s no need for pleasure to be deferred
I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song

I have been sad and alone way too long
Belonging together is most preferred
Creating brings joy, won’t you come along?
My woven whispers ****** ways and words

Take a chance and your senses will be stirred
Part of our circle, not lost in the throng
We are more together, grace is conferred
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong

All ideas are welcomed, no thought is wrong
Just know this; your spirit won’t be interred
May our venture be successful and long
Be part of an inner circle and be heard
I am the Poet

krs
July 21, 2015