Smooth and sleek
You just fall so easily into the palm of my hand I’ve needed your shared words I’ve used your simple mentality Plan as day; black and white My thoughts so easily pour into you You express those ideas back verbatim Being passed around the room I see Your masks and accents change You aren’t the same person twice until Back into my hands you fall I shout through you, I curse I even love and hate My grip tightens as I get into The deep and colorful emotions and words Blue, Black, red any you like Even your colors have true meanings Help me with your subtlety Hidden within pockets of darkness Sometimes without you No one will truly know my soul Written for the world to see My friend My pen
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I’m from little chipped blue coffee cups Heart covered ceramic plates. I’m from the dirt pit in the backyard Wasted hours and toys. I’m from the shed, trapped, waiting in a hail storm Holding onto big shaggy dogs. I’m from the little green Tonka train Riding through the house I’m from the church sinners now Entire family packed in. I’m from the sound of open fields Wind blowing leaves. Yet I’m still from the crowded streets Walking home alone. I’m from the empty house Microwave dinner. Now I’m from the crowded apartment Filled with dolls and make-up. I’m from the bad father Only lesson was how to be a good one. In my room is my staple, my lifeline, my jukebox, Filling the house with happier times and sad memories Carrying on the party for everyone else. Memories talk and tell you all about a person and where they come from. The tiny small memories are always the ones that can tell you the most about someone. You can find my heart in a juke box Songs speaking the words I wish I could Music beats to my heart Scratches on the record speak volumes Skips are the mistakes in life Where entire rooms stop and look Smells of alcohol dreams Pool cue confessions coated in chalk Music stops with no more change to free our souls Each coin a passion lasting only a few moments Scrapes of bar stools cutting to the bone I hear words long forgotten and so final Vinyl cracks in bar stool seats Feels like lifelines to loves lost and stolen Cried tears and times forever frozen behind glass Scanning lists of songs like past memories Remembered lyrics and familiar tunes This song is dedicated to Remembering me, Remembering you This is to show that language comes from more than just words. The environment can tell all sorts of stories if you’d just listen. Long winding roads asking
Are we there? How much longer? Sister’s upset because it’s my turn to pick the station. It’s always classic like some Floyd, Skynyrd, or Zeppelin. Cramped in the van’s warm backseat, crawling over into the back storage area to sleep, reading my first novel, or playing those aggravating Gameboy games, I worked so hard to beat the lights, the beeps, the retrying constant, the relief of rest stops and excitement of new sights out the winds. Everything looks like a new world. We crossed into mountains and hills growing taller every mile. Arriving after long days and hours of riding to realize… It’s been only a few hours. The rest of the day is an adventure… |
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