"vamp" poems
Black Rose sweet Demon bud
A kiss from a Vamp with taste of blood
Emotionless heart infused with desire
Intoxicating lust sets us on fire
Exposed skin
Reveals our sin
As we dig in
Tie you up
You go down
Feel my whip wrap around
Call me Dom
You my Sub
Wear your body like a glove
Drop disguise
Reflection in your eyes
Watch this devil rise
No surprise
Angels cry as I enter your thighs
In realm of our imagination together we flow
****** stroke
Mental poke entering slow
Is there Beauty in the Darkness?
I suppose
As you bloom
Under moon my Black Rose..
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how you love to be played with!
So kind, you are,
to offer your services to all;
to not be sexist
or rude,
to not be selective
or specific.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how pretty you are!
So beautiful, you are,
with lashes so long;
to not be fake
or plastic,
to not be secretive
or allusive.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how active you are!
So mobile, you are,
you'll play anywhere;
to not be restrictive
or exclusive,
to not be immaculate,
or unblemished.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, how I wish to be like you!
So perfect, you are,
with a reputation of a vamp;
to not be pure
or classic,
to be unclothed
and slatternly.
Little Barbie Doll,
oh, what a ***** you've become!
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
Sung to the tune of The Lumberjack Song by Monty Python. Back-up Mounties optional.
I never wanted to be Sandra Dee!
I... I wanted to be...
A LESBIAN!
(piano vamp)
Leaping from bush to bush! As they float down the mighty rivers of
Finger and Thumbia!
With my best girl by my side!
The Blond!
The Brunette!
The Giant Snookie!
The Natural Red!
The Little Spinning Skinnamarink!
We'd sing! Sing! Sing!
Oh, I'm a lesbian, and I'm okay,
I like to broadcast that I'm gay.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
I see straight girls, they're not like me,
But I think that can change.
If they'd just let me kiss them.
Their lives I'd re-arrange.
Mounties: She sees straight girls, they're not like her,
But she thinks that can change.
If they'd just let her kiss them.
Their lives she'd re-arrange.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
I cut down guys, I wish and hope,
That others would join in.
I wish straight women would think,
that *** with men was sin.
Mounties: She cuts down guys, she wishes and hopes,
That others would join in.
She wishes straight women would think,
that *** with men was sin.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
Oh I'm a lesbian and I'm OKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK K!
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
I know this vampire Clarence,
He is a hippy vamp,
He never wears dark cloaks,
Or wanders like a *****
This ghoul is non confomist,
His clothes are sunshine bright,
His fingernails are azure blue,
His favourite drink is sprite.
His blood comes from the blood banks,
He files his fangs twice weekly,
His friends are *** head hippies,
And , ****** he sleeps so sweetly.
He enjoys sleepovers with his girlie friends,
And loves to bathe in milk,
His coffin looks more like a scoobydoo van,
All covered with pink silk.
Im looking forward to halloween,
His parties are the best,
We boogie, all liquered up,
So next day, we can rest.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 5:05 AM UTC
What happens
____ to space______
between us
This is the
human race
Ah, Vey?
Just pray
Overly smitten
But not seeing
clearly picture-prey
He or she runs!!
Little darlings
here comes the sun*
The lime doing the time
Falling trees of coconut
Feeling- overloved
Deviant artist
splat coconut milk
No Security Cat
comfort box
So out of recession
Killer fox______
Chocolatey coconut
Cleanse my mind detox
Almond Joy concession
Rise up Face Botox
He cannot
read you
Haywire always
wired up his words
Hurried Hazelnut
coffee if you mind
Over-sugared
Increased brain
functions bitter rinds
So commercialized
The Cocoa Puffs
Going bananas
monkey ***
Lexie Vamp Vex
Mr. Ed overload
of Oz colors baboon
Going up Air Balloon
So many airheads
The Rainforest
GQ he's gone IQ
((Quarterly Neck of the woods))
Not orderly Outback
Steakhouse
Dinosaurs
******
Vicarious
No shortcut
The nervous system
The fast have a drink
furious
Cracking a coconut
Her Safe______**
6-6-6 combinations
Could crack her
Coconut oil neck her
City Girl call her
Intellectual brain
Singing
Gene Kelly
umbrella
Raining coconuts
(On Overload)
Strawberry Fields
This will be short
Yeah right forever
shortcake, not any sort
The trend of
coconut
Nearer because
of you I am
further
She was the
Brazilian Nut
With her
blind gut
((Coconut Houdini))
Island of Bali
Beauty of Judy
Somewhere so over it
rainbow
King Kong
Hairy chest banging
coconut drink slurping
Of girl talk
Strong New Jersey
Stamina
***** of Venezuela
Overload of
Prima, Donna's
Instant Karma
going to get them
Knocked them off
there feet
Where is my
John Lennon
He has the best beat
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
Jeweled.. map... talk
Wipe her... teardrops...
He summoned her
Braveheart
"The Hipster" starry eye
Commando Chief
Trampled the hot item
help!!
* * * *
Rubies in the Paradox
Pep-talk thief Fox
* * * * *
Red Rhapsody
Hey, Buster, on the
Tip of the "Ice Queen"
"King Speech"
Her lips
Practice what your eyes
Preach whats inside his lips
Lip marooned force
Afterfight doomed
"Divorce"
He tapped took a bite
So vamp lit her lip
Apple stumbles
Mr. Cobbler
Lips got caught to be
crumbled
Clicks movie flicks
* * * *
Physiological College of chicks
On her Demon laptop lovesick
Sisters of the Sentinel
Fingers clicking like quicksand
Ancient lips touch the shadow
Of his smile
Does anyone have a
soft spot for Angels
The psychotic broken wing on the verge
The lip pledge Demon
Give him a shot lip
bullet glass
"Red Electricity" he smiled
Certain lip she deserved
The floppy disk
Sweet breath
His baking whisker's
Those baby boomers
Top of the lip rumors
the right kiss
"Emmy" Jet set trips
Their chattering lips
Niagara falls duty calls
"Lip Shoutbox"
Her lips touched on
A nerve
schemingly
He blew up like the
Cherry bomb we will
succumb dreamily
Could blow his
lips down
How she wore the
red velvet bustier
A+ lip magnet
He's the connoisseur
La Luna melancholy
"The World Is Dying"
No apology
The symphony in line
With the lip up
His chin down is lying
But when your smiling
A poem knows what your
lips are saying
Are you in way too deep
Lips like cold cuts the
paparazzi mob sheep
The movie cut Deli line
Race her the Italian
Mazzaratti be mine
Demon jungle no plain
Jane's lips
Hurry up your highness
lost his taste for goodness
Do angels die her lips went___?
Angel confession another
revelation
One lie please "I am the Angel"
we never live to die
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 8:05 AM UTC
Goliath never
Praised his wife,
Never said
He loved her.
He came up short
Of his intent,
She felt more worthy,
Had to vent,
So stole off from
The Philistine camp,
Crossed the sands
Like a vamp,
To join Israelites
Preparing
For the final fight.
A challenge
Came
From the Giant,
To send out one
To die defiant.
David rose
In shepherd's clothes,
Goliath's wife
Lay near.
When David reached
For shield and spear,
She handed him
A bra.
Her over the shoulder
Boulder holder
Had Philistines guffaw.
Her Double D's,
Once there to please,
Brought Goliath
Grovelling
To his knees.
He lopped off
Goliath's head,
Enjoyed the same
Back in bed.
The lesson taught?
It doesn't matter,
Tall or not,
Be sure to
Tell your wife
She's hot!
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Had I but lived a hundred years ago
I might have gone, as I have gone this year,
By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know,
And Time have placed his finger on me there:
“You see that man?”—I might have looked, and said,
“O yes: I see him. One that boat has brought
Which dropped down Channel round Saint Alban’s Head.
So commonplace a youth calls not my thought.”
“You see that man?”—”Why yes; I told you; yes:
Of an idling town-sort; thin; hair brown in hue;
And as the evening light scants less and less
He looks up at a star, as many do.”
“You see that man?”—”Nay, leave me!” then I plead,
“I have fifteen miles to vamp across the lea,
And it grows dark, and I am weary-kneed:
I have said the third time; yes, that man I see!”
“Good. That man goes to Rome—to death, despair;
And no one notes him now but you and I:
A hundred years, and the world will follow him there,
And bend with reverence where his ashes lie.”
2.1k
Van Gogh wanted to mix a material rainbow of colors
From primary red, yellow and blue in the sense of divine.
In the Holy Light, the love time of the flower clock discolors.
The empty glasses on the tables lack the Holy wine.
The ideal round tables assume their infinite regress,
While huddling down in a stupor the lonely men around.
Their eyes do not see the sense of life and true noblesse.
From a corner view, silent colors search for the sound.
Tables for awakening, for life and for the fate's game.
In life, a complete circled awareness needs time.
In many forms, the epitome of tableness is the same.
It keeps a purple silence for the painted mother of thyme.
This irreconcilable demon -woman hung on the left wall
Needs that freedom engraved on the emerald green door.
The watch on her hand shows the time for a masked ball.
Destined never to meet are the parallel lines on the floor.
Love is for completing the time as pink is for the emerald green.
In the mirror, this nuance of green reflects the sadness of life.
Against the red, pink and white, in games, the cue tip can lean,
Because all the main complementary colors are at strife.
The white coat of the waiter is a symbol in the glow of the lamp.
The perspective looks somewhat downward toward the floor.
Extending to new dimensions, Eve sits or she just up to vamp.
The flowers wither and the life disappears after an endless war.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
I've always been wary--
and celebrated my potential
Betrayal
and
Certain
death(.) (oh)
At The Juice Joint.
All wet. (incorrrr
--ect.)
Applesauce. (non
sense.)
All dolled up. Showed off my
Gams
And Big Jazz
(eyes).
Wanted to get spifflicated with some
Dolls
and
Jellybeans.
...my fella.
?
Didn't have enough clams.
Any of us.
We
're the new
Lost
...generation.
I thought I'd keep the bank open,
but
interest wasn't given
Cash or Check:
didn't really matter.
Might've been
the
cat
's
meeeeeow.
And
how.
Ahhhhh...
we all had our glad rags on.
the Daddies hit on all sixes.
Let's get ZOZZLED on some
jag juice,
dewdropper.
Deeeeeewdropper. ~errrrrrrrr.....
Though giggle juice is more apt
...for me.
Leave the Mrs. Grundys at home...no fire extinguishers allowed.
How ironic.
You were the extinguisher.
Bring Your Own Knife
, we said.
It's a Stabbing Party
, we said.
I didn't want to handcuff you. Didn't want to exchange manacles.
("No, I'm no one's Wife, but OHHHHH, I love my Life.")
I percolate.
I percolate.
I percolate.
I'm not your quiff.
...not your sheba...or a vamp.
Just admire my
chassis
if you will.
they
all
do
The engine'll purr
for you,
~~if you turn the keys just so
Everything was
Copacetic.
Copacetic...
For a time.
(get'hotget'hot!)
Caesar's here.
Hussssshhhhhhhh...
...speak
~~eeeeeaaaaassssyyyyy.
And then I realized.
I'm tired of being Caesar
( . )
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
Running here running there
doing this doing that.
calling him calling her.
fixing this fixing that.
Im just tidying up the window dressing .
Fixing the facade.
Going here going there
smiling nicely putting on spin
trying to win the face contest.
Just tidying up the window dressing.
The store is out of stock.
The Tax man is a vamp.
Printing money like stamps.
Busting up my camp.
Time is spinning faster. Playing out the string.
The treadmill tilts a steeper angle.
Winners never quit and quitters never win.
Reaching for the next rung. Just like the one before.
Just tidying up the window dressing.
I got stamina to burn.
Tax man. Gas man. Card man
Med. man. Food man. Clothes man
Mortgage man.Rent man. Car man.
Light man. Water man Boss man.
Tidying up the window dressing
Stressing hard about my stressing.
Too jammed up to count my blessing.
Tell the truth without confessing.
Politicians full of ****
Slippery as quicksilver.
Who the hell they playing with.
Left or right I'm done with it.
AGAIN.
Media. what media. Tell it to
Goebbels.
Just pulling down the window dressing
Tired of playing Bo Peep. Big boy time.
Wakie Wakie.
The old shell game.
Never give a sucker an even break
Or.
Smarten up a chump said W.C
Fields. He was serious. I'm serious.
Who's serious about 1929.
Tearing down the window dressing
Dont believe the hype.
Nero fiddled while Rome burned. He was not mad
He had a plan?
Tearing up the window dressing.
Life is much too short for mucking
about with pit vipers bugged on ecstasy.
I'm serious.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
BABY vamps, is it harder work than it used to be?
Are the new soda parlors worse than the old time saloons?
Baby vamps, do you have jobs in the day time or is this all you do? do you come out only at night?
In the winter at the skating rinks, in the summer at the roller coaster parks,
Wherever figure eights are carved, by skates in winter, by roller coasters in summer,
Wherever the whirligigs are going and chicken spanish and hot dog are sold,
There you come, giggling baby vamp, there you come with your blue baby eyes, saying:
Take me along.
1.6k
By Arcassin Burnham
"Just another black boy with an half eaten cheese burger
On his bed, I pray the Lord will let me lay here",
The sun is out today also due to the troubled earth,
Life is getting shorter so you better know your Worth,
Death is inevitable to escape when it occurs,
Fears for the lucky ones that really roam the dirt,
B-i-r-d , you'd swear that it's the word,
Will it fly East or West in hopes one day to return,
You want to get right with him and not get burned,
Hope you got enough courage in your tank just to swerve,
Don't be a vamp all your life wishing hell for grace,
You want death in a hard cover , 29 is the page,
And I'll ignore every smart remarks and comments that you say,
The ripples in the water cools but slowly will age,
When you find freedom , memories will all fade,
But when you find paradise it's more than just a trace,
It's more than just a trace,
I hope to get there one day,
/
I could feel stress on your meter,
You're planning your long nights to see her,
If that's what makes you happy boy,
I hope she'll be the teacher,
My days in this life is long gone,
Sometimes I don't know what I do wrong,
To find me a shorter supply for this world will divide,
Have been alive for this long,
To know that I'm living a lie,
The purpose I'm chasing is solidified,
I could look for a good reason,
To raise a family without suicide,
Or passed on mental illnesses that'll ruin friendships in the
Flash of lightning,
Might have locations you could never find me,
I was looking for a way right now to get my weight up,
And conquer the scarring agony of misophonia,
So I'm done with ya,
No time to make friends , I believe in the God we trust,
I wanna get it back to the way it was...
I could feel stress on your meter,
You're planning your long nights to see her,
If that's what makes you happy boy,
I hope she'll be the teacher,
They use to say our skin was our sin,
And now we dress good for the black out....
A certain ability we won't lack now.
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
She had talent, she had skills,
Always there a sucker for meat.
She would look on
In wild abandonment,
Every man thought he was
Jackpot,
Winner,
King
For as long as it did last, a woman
Of such beauty, not even money
Changed hands. She would hold it
Through cloth, up, down up, down
Till she felt it mature in the palm
Of her cold hand,
Her mouth was cold as ice on meat so warm,
Shocked,
Bewildered,
Ecstasy
As lips cold on warmth made it last,
"I'll drink you down"
"I'll drink you till there's nothing left"
Smiles erupted
Moans of ecstasy
Grew in volume as moments past.
"I'm getting"
"I'm getting"
"AAaghhhhh"
Pain seared though,
As grabbing hair in pain not pleasure now.
She looked up, saw the fear in his eyes,
"I told you I'd drink you"
**"I'll **** you dry"**
With that she bit in to the meat once more,
As life left this body,
She stood up,
"Was it good for you"
Mmm..
As she licked her lips,
How delightful these men
Are to let me eat upon their meat,
I'll drink everyone of them cold.
"She was a queen of suckers"
She knew where blood flowed fastest
When she was on her knees,
They would not resist just want more,
Feeble men, thinking with the wrong brain
But just more for me to **** off,*
So many to eat, as she licks her fangs,
"I'm full tonight"
"Tomorrow though"
Mmm...
English breakfast
Or
Left over nearly cold Chinese
Ill make that decision tomorrow,
I could be really greedy and eat both....
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
Poltergeist will vamp studio glancingly
but with their incredible sound have spun as paradise with a stone,
a record with tainted sensibility from their body strand
and upon alternate soul shall throng a hit song, reminiscent
of her, a jubilant success instantly there
that her surfer clime to farther heights
and they'll dance everyday the sun is out.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
Her favourite night of the year approaches,
The veil between life and death will slip,
When ghouls, banshees and ghosts leave their coaches,
And the headless horseman leaves with the crack of his whip.
Sure, she'll dress like a vamp, wearing plastic fangs,
And she'll play her part well, at this new night club spot,
Just a few, well selected mere mortals will hang,
For this party appears to be all that it,s not.
When she checks in her cloak, with the strange looking girl,
She is handed a drink, from an ancient vessel,
"What is it?", she 'll ask,"Oh just give it a whirl",
So she swigs, not seeing the bottle necks tossil.
As a tingle is closing her airways so tight,
She becomes quite aware of what she's drinking,
And she looks out the window, to see fading light,
And the floor feels like quicksand, she's sinking.
Her host appears, chanting, and everyone follows,
They claw at her , like they were starving,
And feed on her blood, she is shocked as it flows,
As she sees on her wrists, all the carvings.
Such a need to belong, left her lying, undead,
Just so she could appear,so delightful,
Now she feeds on the weak, ****** girls in their bed,
Crawling back in her hole, in wait for nightfall.
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 12:15 AM UTC
Tell the ******* truth, Gwen Stefani, bleach blonde vamp.
Questions stack up in the recesses of my mind,
A renovation’s trash pile of drywall dust.
You changed me, but there are things to clean up.
Did you just take a break to remake your image
For swarms of chubby white suburban pre-teens
Swarming in packs at the middle school dance?
Are those the only bees you could catch in your hive?
How did you meld and mold the Harajuku girls
To fit in the camera’s crosshairs or to walk
the thin line of a New York fashion week runway?
I must admit I still have my bottle of L.A.M.B.
Was the woman who screeched she was Just a Girl
Just floundering for fame? Does this happen to
Every mid-level artist? Will my inkwell turn
To the blood of an easy fan base too?
I wanted you to be my mother, but you picked
my platinum model sister as your favorite.
But will I still become you, even though I know
You’re false? Your press coverage can’t reveal the future.
Black tar lies spew from US magazine covers
Eyes dark, I gobble them up in violent shudders.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Me, sometimes too slow
sometimes raring to go.
And you? like a ray of sunshine
that walked into my room,
Oh! my room full of my lonely
tumbled gloom.
Like a star that lost her moon,
like these rains that makes frozen
doors, inside my caged rooms.
I always saw myself, mostly through
the window, of my dark uneven mind.
Many of those characters I made
in my narratives could have been me!
But were never me for a reason.
Oh! did you ever know that
my beautiful silent vamp?
I usually sit down in my room
unsparing my mind, body and soul
sometimes in relentless pain,
but that was a story lost long back.
Now, in rosy curvy overture
you need to wake me up
with a sweet little pen lamp!
Read my vulpine runes
which I pen late nights
and then wake me up
to my own chorus tunes!
Also please use
my mystic crafty hands,
to give fire to your words
everywhere you wish to write!
But then again let me ask
with my mystic cryptic voice
where were you all this while?
Oh! my invisible little pen lamp.
Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 2:34 AM UTC
Sweet talks you jinxed me,
On fingers you puppetted me,
Go, go, go get lost you vamp!
Innocent voice you hoaxed me,
By your pretty tunes you lured me,
Go, go, go get lost you vamp!
When you were upset with me,
Did not I try to make you smile,
But you ditched me to rot alone!
When all conspired against you,
Did not I stand stiff by your side,
But you sniffed him shamelessly!
When you were least expecting it,
Did not I write romance songs to you,
If not songs always, they're poems.
When you were there wasn't I happy,
Did not I plead you to stay forever,
If not forever intended, you told lies.
I thought that you were my sweet,
My pretty, so beautiful living doll,
But alas! I loved only a stone idol.
Now just get lost from my memories!
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 1:04 AM UTC
~
**she starts with lightning
then comes her thunder
search for shelter to hide under
she is the rain, she is the snow
so cold, so damp
winters frigid vicious vamp**
***I can't get through the dark side
afraid to give
afraid to live
I can't get through the dark side***
**she is the storm
that blackens my sky
frozen chest no breath for good bye
can't think can't feel
can't find a reason
there is no refuge from her changing season**
***CHORUS
CHORUS***
**can't get through
can't get through
can't...**
written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand productions
Under a Tangerine Sky Entertainment
Phoenix Arizona 2010
all rights reserved
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
A monk was concentrating upon God
In front of a vamp’s house
Whenever a visitor came
He would pick up a stone and threw it
Years rolled on and the stones piled up
The monk became old and the vamp sick
There was a huge heap of stones
The monk would look at it in surprise
The dooms day arrived
The monk was sent to hell
And the vamp to heaven
What a Paradoxical judgement!
The monk asked God
“Why did you send me to hell
And the vamp to heaven”?
God replied,” you concentrated on her fraud
But she concentrated on God.
She dedicated her soul to me
And only her body to the visitors”
Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 7:00 AM UTC
Fingers fumble at buttons
liquorice in our breath
misty fug of your name
still lingers on the window
it watches
toes like bent paperclips
fidget impatiently
glass half-full of lemon and lime
little bubbles little fizzes
mute television
goldfish mouths with no sound
this evening
'vamp' your chosen shade
exposed navel heartbeats
blood thump in ear
a sock falls off
the other overboard already
twenty fingers
it's alright
I say it's fine it's alright
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
Where are you in this midnight sky?
as not too long from here
your lips grazed mine
Chanel Rouge Allure ever lasting
remains.
I still have traces of
tram marks left by
Vamp Rouge Noir nails and
I trace your soul on each
& every scratch.
You winked as you left
you said in such guileful ways
you must know
I always come back
you just never know
how long it'll be.
For as predictable as
we are - a pair of boomerangs
knowing we'll always be
reunified by powers far greater
than us -
we never know when or how,
even why.
Where are you in this midnight sky?
if I count the times
my missing you is felt,
it's as futile as
******* for virginity.*
The mere distance between
you & I -untangible, immeasurable.
For as long as our souls
inevitably bounce back,
that time, that space in
star filled nights
& crescent moon skies
become a vacuum of all
lost or loved.
Every time we meet our
halogen balloon hearts
*rise
rise
rise*
&
in a time span unfathomable
sinking
Velociously.
© Sia Jane
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Another day and they say "it's a new beginning"
But is it really, it feels more like an ending
An ending of time
In a life that doesn't rhyme
An unending march into the uncertain
Like the droping of life's curtain
Another day closer to the end
But I'm still waiting on my life to begin
I'm tired of this life's storyline
I want a different out come this time
I want happy, not sad
I want the good, not the bad
But there is no off ramp
Sadness leaving it's tattooed stamp
An uneasy feel of being a ***** lost *****
Meanwhile life just goes on like a vamp
Over and over the same music plays
A sorrowful song, for long anguished days
But I want a change in the beat
An uplifting melody to get me on my feet
Will you be my new rhythm
An escape from my prison
Are you my golden key
Will you try to set me free
Will you hold me tight
When I'm a sad sorry sight
There is no cure for my depression
But will you help the darkness lessen
Or will you run for the hills
Jump in the sea and grow gills
Just to get away
From a disease you can not sway
As the darkness continues devouring
Will you leave me here cowering
Slowly choking down another toxic pill
Till this clock like heart's hands stand still
©Pauline Russell
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC