Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Setting:
He plays his heart out,
With everything at hand,
He asks him self what this is about,
Its always the same pain,
Magic happens with-in his skin,
Though he has no one to blame,
He l i v e s for his music,
With out that he would die,
His only passion,
Though some aren't his fashion,
He fancy's his voice,
He has no choice,
He plays for me,
As he comes to see,
I know what he really means.
He screams his emotions,
With every living
devotion.
Delievring the effect of life,
The meaning to his past,
And our pleasnt future.
Again he strums,
He drums,
I wink,
With in
one
split
blink.
Reality.

2 comments:

Theresa said...

I would rescue you...but I have no car to get to you. You'll be okay, it gets fun :)

Іванченко said...

There's no way out, its gonna be a long ride
but you've gotta hold on, for its your life
the feelings you digest attempt to subside
your constant interactions with reality's brink
the lonely actions we commit without time to think
its the comparison between the life we live and the life we love
what we want and what we have
its a silly game we play that ends up bad
so love the way love was made to be loved
and we'll all stand in a pile and let it be in touch
contact the life and ignore the harsh realities
live the dreams forged inside of your living divinity

~Keep things Secure.

Love,
Digress.

P.S. (this is what the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated)
also, yes i have read your "Love IS" poem, i commented on it too. a while back. look it up.

yEStERYEar