So, I've burnt your book
of golden knowledge
and, rode that cloud
to the ground
Soon, it'll be raining
in my head again
if it would only
sink all the "what if's"
Slowly, I color outside
all your lines
never your smiling
artist, just a friend
This crazy collage
made of meat puppet
souls and crayons
is just a phase
I wont be your
drowning Jesus
of dreaming
bathtub blues
With, all my angels
on the mantle
suffocating all the light
from your dim wit candles
Slipping through all
your windowpane talks
never to know the joy of
disobeying all your thoughts
wenelson2009


No comments:
Post a Comment