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This is a road I've never walked down, this is a hole I've never been in,
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By a fountain, on hill side top, behind a cathedral long forgot.
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The wind is rising, so they say,
beneath the blue tent we prisoners call sky.
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As I lay me down to sleep, I pray the dreams I wake to keep
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She was annoyed. Frustrated, angry, irritated. He wouldn't listen or hear or see
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Sat amongst a time and place unknown, the heart beats warmly now.
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My poor poor sorrowful heart, how you cry to me.
Never no enemy ever forgot,
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When you stand atop a mountain,
I'll be on a random shore
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Dance a new way, to counteract her, this is not your fault.
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How now? you ask me,
Why now? you asked then.
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I walked with you, only tonight, having lain upon your chest.
I quizzed, I questioned, I condemned, I hung
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Press your beating heart to mine, allow our hearts to beat in time.
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He said to me, did you cry that night? did your world open up and trample your dreams,
by Sam-I-Am
18 lines, 3 comments,
on May 16 7:39 PM
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We were the same once upon a time,
but you being the lucky number ahead
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How could you love me, if I didn't love you first, but still expect you to tell me first, so neither of us say, but we still know.
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You said you loved me yesterday, when I was there and the sun shone high
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I sit and I find myself amidst the blue and the dark night,
to try and console and captivate the last of the dying light.
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So calm my heart though yours does race,
to mimic the breath of uncertain haste,
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We walked down the canal, you and I,
the wind whipping at unruly hair,
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Finally, in time-ticked haste,
wonders a man in love-cast waste.
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Laying awake past midnight,
where dusk and dawn make haste,
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I go this way, you go there,
we say it's fine, don't seem to care.
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They tell you when you hit sixteen, that everything that has and been,
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Sit back, and relax, for the first time again. After a while reconsider the way you look at pain,
by Sam-I-Am
9 lines,
on Dec 7 2:55 AM 2008
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Your chalk like smile painted on wrong, the defeated liking to a cobbled song.
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You'd give up forever, for always and more, can my heart not do the same?
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While I flourish my world burns, around me. Touch my fingertips,
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So silenty
you stand there watching the bus pull away,
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We dream of the sky past the windosill, There we stay curled up dead still.
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One...It clicks
as it leaves my fingertips,
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For the first time
the cherry popped,
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Paled brown eyes seared by a twilight dusk,
uncaring spasms occupy a motherly husk.
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What it to love and to care?
to watch that person and not help but stare.
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