When despair tries to creep into me,
I close my eyes and breathe in the scenery
and remember what matters to me.
The sky is blue. The leaves are green.
The sun is high, and its warmth seeps into me.
The world is not just a photograph
of a place that could never last
and we can not write its epitaph.
Dwelling in our pointless lies
of building up our slow demise,
we don't realize
there's much more than what meets the eyes.
The sky is blue. The leaves are green.
The sun is high, and its warmth seeps into me.
Sometimes time tries to take control
disguising the true core of your soul
but if you want to become whole
don't forget to keep dreaming
Staring at the hourglass
watching your life quickly pass
you'll never see
what your life's meaning could be
The sky is gray. The leaves are green.
The rain falls down, and each raindrop clenses me.
The sky is gray. Leaves are green.
And each raindrop clenses me.
The sky is gray. Leaves are green
and each raindrop clenses me.
Author notes
I was humming parts of Hazy Shade of Winter by Simon and Garfunkel when I was writing this, so it somewhat goes to that tune.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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So, this poem is by far my favorite out of your most recent ones (that you have posted on this website.)
From what I got out of it is that people get so caught up in their own despair and demise and the horrid complexity of their own pathetic lives yet there is so much more out there in the world; such beauty, depth and wonderfully simple things that many people just overlook on a daily basis. People are so consumed in their selves and are so rushed in meeting deadlines and making appointments (the whole concept of the clock controls our lives; the talk me, you and tyler had) and they think that "this is it" and believe that there is nothing else to this world, that they don't take a second to breathe and realize that there is so much more to life, to their lives. Their lives, our lives, could be so much more.
When are you going to sing me one of your songs?
I think you should when I come home next week! =] -
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It's sad that I can't remember clearly the subject of a poem I wrote like a week ago, but I believe the part about time was actually inspired at least somewhat by the conversation we had.
..yay you commented on my poem..!
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