I am a singer/song writer who lacks the articulate accuracy to produce a masterpiece so in the mean time entertain my ego by pretending I'm good.
This opus gig is a great idea. It is dying though, as I fear. That it has attracted people with tiny minds. Who can't make a point of any kind. Now bigots come and fools will show.
You may not believe that I wrote you a Poem I just feel it's the best way of me showing My feelings for you and my thoughts of purity A life with love and complete security..
Doubt arrives late at The conclusion of the decisions we make..
I find my self lost Im searching in Despair I can't seem to find my __ anywhere. I leave this space blank for you to fill If you lost your __ you'd know how I feel So please.
I'm angry I'm angry because I don't understand I have no trail, target or plan So I bury my head in the preverbal sand I'm not as sharp as I would like to seem I'm confused and dazed Like I'm lost...
Waving a flag for freedom of speech I once left a comment with the desire to teach, The opinion was true to my belief But all it brought was anger and grief, To their surprise I found it amusing...
I'm writing you poems. as you drift through my head. and thinking of the life i could have lead. If I wasn't blessed with the company of you. and blessed with the beautiful things that you do,.
I could go all day when feeling like this Lost in you, cuddled by bliss, My soul belongs attached to yours Without it I'm a boat with out any oars..
My eyes are closed but the sun shines through they open a little and I see you, I blink for a second and fall into the blue.
It's Monday morning and I'm laying in bed Visions of you play around in my head.
I've got blisters on my fingers from this song I wrote, I have a half cocked bottle for a shot to the throat, If you get in my way I'll shoot you down.
My heart stopped beating about a month ago, I met her in a town that I can't recall, There must be a hole in my pocket because I'm broke.