The tidiest stack
topples over in my eye;
clean sweep is needed.
The tidiest stack
topples over in my eye;
clean sweep is needed.
My failures don’t haunt me
but I keep them on my mind
so that future mishaps
won’t ever catch me blind.
–
The one that stands out
is not one I like to admit,
but never again will I fail
and put up with someone else’s shit.
The life force behind us all
yet it terrifies me so
it makes up most of planet earth
it helps our green grass grow.
So calm and serene
I have seen it be
but also destructive
it is truly deadly.
One drop could be torture
or it could save a life
a quick dip can cool you
or a drench can cause you strife.
This double edged droplet
seems to get around
and while a drink is beneficial,
I think I’ll stay on the ground.
These people are so cruel,
can you believe what they’ve done?
They made me get my own water
instead of lay in the sun.
Good servants are hard to find
and they have made it quite clear
that a harsh paw is needed
with punishment most severe.
Will it be one scratch or two
or perhaps just an evil glare?
I think actions speak louder
than this ice-cold stare.
Next time I say to bring me a drink
these people will surely comply
when they remember this moment
and that the stakes are so high.
My hand-crafted love
was not crafted well
since the structure collapsed
the minute I fell.
Next time I just might
find a better way to build
and learn from my mistakes
to become better skilled.
I know a shortcut, you see
that will take you from where you are
directly to me.
The journey is perilous for sure,
but if you make it to your destination
you will be secure.
Will you take the chance tonight?
Will the danger and the thrill excite?
Can you tell wrong from right?
The blues got nothing on the despair
that lingers in my heartstrings
fueled by my utter lack of care.
The motions get harder to go through
as the façade that I’ve weakly created
breaks down piece by piece too.
All that’s left is this illegitimate shell
of a person’s battered remains
with what was once whole, in hell.
Christmas carols play,
the mood is not light or gay;
the lights have burned out.
I’ve heard this song before
but it does not sound the same
like most things in this life
since I’ve heard your name.
A simple encounter
that may never be again
has left such an impression
of what has never been.
I have never been able to explain
this feeling that infects
my heart and other organs
which soon my body rejects.
There may be no cure
and I am prepared to die
so if you must carry on,
at least tell me why.
To my grave I will retreat
and your secret shall rest with me
but your disease will carry on
since there is no cure that we can see.