Cheeks pressed to cool dirt floors,
hope found in spiders webs
(cloaking the outside whores.)
Tomorrows promises cloud todays,
todays hurtful slaps and swallows
bury yesterday.
Oh yes, it's dark and seedy.
Smiles and laughter inside
the dank house
persuade even the greedy
to take a peek, take a shot,
it could be your lucky day.
Even with the tinge of rot
it's hard not to want to play.
There's no reason to this.
No rhyme for you to hang on.
No moment that's forgivable.
No time for it to be sing song.
Hug me, prince.
Ignore the precious youth,
(cast your eyes away from the door.)
No, the sun's not out today.
Why do you keep wanting more?
Let it go, let it go, green earth.
Keep all the kids from going under.
Fatherly kisses are overvalued,
the eyes of youth
find their own wonder.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
How many frogs have you had to kiss to find your prince? How many did you not kiss to find him, to leave him waiting, still a frog?
Keep your ear to the ground, if you like, but it would be far more effective if the rumble was from your own footsteps, Rapunzel. The tower door has always been unlocked, you just never tried the handle.
Truthfully, that spider's web exposes more than it hides...the false security of a perception of anonymity doesn't stop a pair of blue x-ray eyes...it's blue ray technology, dearest brightest ruby star.
Promises...they are empty tin cans. There are words and there are actions...I'm waiting for the two to meet.
And if yesterday is buried, then so is today, so is tomorrow. For, as Janis Joplin said "it's all one long fucking day, man."
But yes, slaps hurt...but sometimes they wake you from a fruitless slumber.
It's been my lucky day for some time...the wrong kind of luck though...I keep waiting for that to change...I keep waiting for that princess to free me from my frog form.
There is more reason to this than you embrace. Go ask a celestial messenger...I think I know one named Lauren...he makes movies, he's a native American, about so high...he will tell you all about it in a metaphor of the cosmos, ruby star.
And yes...there is no time to be sing song...and it's not rhyme to which I seek to hang on to.
So here's an "O" from a frog...a king amongst amphibians.
Before you disect me, pith me please.
The sun may not be out, but is it raining? It's out here, but it's cold and there are clouds.
And there can be no over-valuing the kiss of a father. If you think that, you've been spoiled, and yet somehow deprived.
Eyyyyyyyy popppppppi Issues
Post a Comment