It's funny to me,
The lies that we force ourselves to believe,
Even though we see,
Whether awake or in dreams,
The face of the ugliest truths,
And scars that tell the tales of abuse,
Regret everything you do,
And half the things you say,
Keep the rest of the world off balance,
And continue that quest to find a way.....out...
Her smile makes the lies pretty,
The things she chooses not to say,
Makes the truth seem silly,
Seperate but never equal,
One plays a game,
The other is contemplating the sequal,
Space divided by time,
Multiplied by my desire,
Equals a whole new set of issues to be tired of...
Author notes
Written June 22nd, 2006
What did you think
Comments
-
This was great Brandon! Just reading this really makes me miss our talks. I'm sorry I haven't been around lately to correspond with, but we need to do it again soon, lots to catch up on.
Great poem, and I felt like I could relate to it on my own level. -
Okay I guess, not too original but somewhat decent usage of metaphors, kinda dull of bland. But nice effort
Adding your comment:
