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You asked me one day if I would cry…
Tears that form as you die…
But you ask a question not worth told
As you’ve scarred my soul as I grow old
Void from accident carefully thought
My worry distracted reduced to naught
Body is drained sleep as a constraint
What happened to those days when I could paint?
The time ticks by my decision made
Serenity now behind the fascade…
Pray for those days where my mind is still
Blinded with rage a time-to-kill
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I feel transfixed…I woke up from a barren sleep; the consequence was great the reward was minute. Still the experience oh the experience…The point of no return, the pungent smell of the unwilling…there are times when all motivates’ come into play…then the realization of truth…still the romance lasted just enough…the pleasantries of making similar mistakes…the impoverished people come now to mind…how fortunate am I that I always seem to accidentally become aware of the beauty…the beauty of uncertainty.
The Power of words
I’m convinced I’m here to make a major difference
But ‘A’ involves ‘B’ and without ‘C’ makes no sense
It is not with numbers but with words I will pave
There is no explanation about the way I behave
I torture my mind and am aware against the grain
But the conventional way is easy – acquire a complete brain
The sequence is disrupted your world upturned
Everything goes against you – happily burned
It is within these times you grow up mentally
A man becomes a medium for seeked immortality
Shakespeare was revered for naming a bubble a bubble
Try to measure up against him there maybe trouble
I will go by my terms and by no other
At war with words but I welcome my brother….
You asked me one day if I would cry…
Tears that form as you die…
But you ask a question not worth told
As you’ve scarred my soul as I grow old
Void from accident carefully thought
My worry distracted reduced to naught
Body is drained sleep as a constraint
What happened to those days when I could paint?
The time ticks by my decision made
Serenity now behind the fascade…
Pray for those days where my mind is still
Blinded with rage a time-to-kill
Untitled
I feel transfixed…I woke up from a barren sleep; the consequence was great the reward was minute. Still the experience oh the experience…The point of no return, the pungent smell of the unwilling…there are times when all motivates’ come into play…then the realization of truth…still the romance lasted just enough…the pleasantries of making similar mistakes…the impoverished people come now to mind…how fortunate am I that I always seem to accidentally become aware of the beauty…the beauty of uncertainty.
The Power of words
I’m convinced I’m here to make a major difference
But ‘A’ involves ‘B’ and without ‘C’ makes no sense
It is not with numbers but with words I will pave
There is no explanation about the way I behave
I torture my mind and am aware against the grain
But the conventional way is easy – acquire a complete brain
The sequence is disrupted your world upturned
Everything goes against you – happily burned
It is within these times you grow up mentally
A man becomes a medium for seeked immortality
Shakespeare was revered for naming a bubble a bubble
Try to measure up against him there maybe trouble
I will go by my terms and by no other
At war with words but I welcome my brother….
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How will these mortals view me the ‘the rhyming poet?’
If they made the effort to know me…will I show it?
Known as a man of mighty strength by friends
Who looks again…there are four sides and two ends…
How will these mortals view me the ‘the rhyming poet?’
If they made the effort to know me…will I show it?
Known as a man of mighty strength by friends
Who looks again…there are four sides and two ends…
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