The beauty of a child
“A man’s maturity consists in having found again the seriousness one had as a child, at play.” -Nietzche
Add comment October 10th, 2008
Archive for October, 2008
Please tell me goodbye
Why? Why did you take my fragile heart and toss it to the wind? Why did you construct wounds irreconcilable in the end? I’m distraught. Discouraged I am not, but come on, your actions proved I was the one you tastefully sought. Maybe not.
Love cannot be bought. Now there’s a thought.
Why? Why did you lead me on some fantastical journey, only to send me away on a blood stained gurney? Have you no idea what your inconsideration has done to me? I’m not one to “let it be.” You meant the world to me, but locked the door and swallowed the key. Gee. What a friend.
Love cannot be taught. What was I saying? I forgot.
Why? Why did you suddenly sell? I sent you a letter; you sent me to hell. Should I have known? Wednesday night surely did tell. Now that I look back, you were so distant and compassion you surely did lack. I should’ve gotten my iPhone back as a matter of fact.
Love deserves truth. Truth deserves love. My youth was the greatest time of my life. People actually cared about me. I was involved and care free. Now I’m no longer me.
Why did you kill me? I was on board the express train to success. Now my life is a mess. Wait, some episode of reckless distress. Why? Your silence the tie for me to decry I ever knew you, so why?
Please, let me untie this lie. Please, just tell me goodbye.
Add comment October 7th, 2008
Again, I’m the one they all run from
Reborn and shivering, spat out on new terrain. Unsure, unconvincing this faint and shaky hour.
Day one, day one: start over again. Step one, step one: I’m barely making sense. For now I’m faking it ’til I’m pseudo making it from scratch. Begin again, but this time I as I, and not as we.
Gun shy and quivering, timid without a hand. Feign brave with steel intent. Little and hardly here.
Day one, day one: start over again. Step one, step one: with not much making sense. Just yet I’m faking it ’til I’m pseudo making it from scratch. Begin again, but this time I as I, and not as we.
Eyes wet toward wide open frayed. If God’s taking bets, I pray he wants to lose.
Day one, day one: start over again. Step one, step one: I’m barely making sense. Just yet I’m faking it ’til I’m pseudo making it from scratch. Begin again, but this time I as I, and not as we.
Add comment October 4th, 2008
