could it be that we're all just waiting for something to happen? something to makes us feel like we each have our own purposes in life? something that might turn the tables of these crappy lives we have? is it only i that make mistakes, or are there others who are willing to offer the helping hand to help us from the ground when we stumble over a crack in our subconsious?
i want to believe that there is always someone that wants to stand close, even when the attackers leave. someone who can fight for me, little by little helping me become someone other than this smartass poet i have grown to be. only my writing can save me from this darkness that envelopes the people around me, turning them to the ways of the selfish and cold-hearted.
If only there was a small ray of light to help me with this rhyme. i keep writing down the words, but nothing fits. the pages are filled with love songs, poems from the heart. things that only print can say, and only written do they make that impact that cuts into the very sould of their reader, where tears witll form with a deep longing of the loves talked about in stories and ballads.
smother me with insults, batter me with lies. chew me up, and spit me out. it doesn't matter to me. i'm only here because god made me do it. i didn't know that this would be the life i'd have to live. this ongoing story built up by nothing but a lack of sleep and the continuous creaking of the house falling apart around me.
if you feel the same way i do, and want to burn the memories of their past with a shimmering light of hope that someday we'll become someone else from what we used to be. this metamorphasis of which we can't wait to live.
 Tesxa Vorn · Thu Jul 24, 2008 @ 04:48pm · 0 Comments |
