Come Back

I see the clouds rolling in and oh how it looks like rain
And it is always I fight for the welcome change
When it rains it pours on this heart of mine
So, I take the storms I feel to her each time.

But I know she has lived under her own pouring rain
Yet under her water her heart still doesn't change
She can walk away from what hangs overhead
And, not in her storm, are words left unsaid.

Not in her storm have I ever felt alone
Her storm ends, so I, may find my way home
It's for me that she pushes away her own rain
So, that I may find comfort in calling her name.

She lives in this world for the sake of another's heart
God, how she eases the miles when worlds apart
And she never wanders when your world falls through
Not ever in her storm would she do this to you.

She has wings that I know not only I can see
Cause only an angel could find strength to carry me
It's the way that the eyes can surely view
How her heart's written so clearly in what an angel can do.

Not in her storm is her work ever done
And even in her storm she hands me the sun
When her world is dark - I always have light
And now how I hold the new color of night.

She takes then she gives to an unhappy face
So that many can find an awesome place
Not in any storm that I will ever live beneath
Could ever change what I hold here inside of me

Friendship is too sacred a relationship and I am not a traitor. I do understand that I could not live up to your expectations but that’s why they say “Blood runs through our veins, that’s where our similarities end”

Please…

The End..

I am such a sucker
And I'm always the last to know
My insides are copper
And I'd kill to make them gold
Conversation got me here: another night alone in the city
So make my bed the grave and shovel dirt onto my sheets

Every friend we ever had in common
I will sever the tie, sever the tie with you
You can thank your lucky stars
That everything I wish for will never come true

I've seen sinking ships go down with more grace than you
Turn this up I'll tune you out
Another night alone in the city, yeah
Fake it like you matter
that's a lie we can both keep, ohh

When you go, I will forget everything about you

I’m FRUSTRATED.
Absolutely irritable.
Throwing this stupid temper tantrum.
Annoyed beyond belief.
Sad till I don’t know if I should start crying, or start laughing hysterically.
So pissed off I could kick anyone in my way to the north pole.

It's me against luck now and I know I won't win...no one ever has and hence I shall turn out to be another one of them rebellious and sorry victims. What did I do wrong? Can anyone tell me? Why should I deserve this...fuck all the morons fuck YOU fuck ALL. I will be pissed off in peace all you fuckwads! Let me be like this and leave me the fuck alone.

The last post was utter shit. I dont have a home either...I seriously dont deserve it I dont! Anyway my share of luck and this too shall pass

The Eternal Snafus

Don’t feel like home. He’s a little out.
And all these words elope. It’s nothing like your poem.
Putting in. inputting in. Don’t feel like methadone.
A scratching voice all alone It’s nothing like your baritone.

It’s nothing as it seems. The little that he needs. It’s home.
The little that he sees. Is nothing he concedes. It’s home.

One uninvited chromosome. a blanket like the ozone.

It’s nothing as it seems. All that he needs. It’s home.
The little that he frees is nothing he believes. It’s home

Saving up a sunny day. Something maybe two tone.
Anything of his own. A chip off the corner stone.
Who’s kidding? Rainy day. A one way ticket headstone.
Occupations overthrown. A whisper through a megaphone.

It’s nothing as it seems. The little that he needs. It’s home.
The little that he sees is nothing he concedes. It’s home.
And all that he frees. A little bittersweet. It’s home.
It’s nothing as it seems. The little that you see it’s home.

Kids at play. With innocent tone
Shouted..
The cheese always stands ‘alone’

You do it halfway. He dropped his strings by a full tone.
And the music so created, did justice to his poem.

Another attempt. Conscience clear
Turned futile. Never made him his own
What came out?
Something harder than a stone.

Hurdle cleared, nice and fine
1520 was the number
But..
There was something he disowned.

The storm abated, he was calm.
He lost something… a feeling.
He’s let go and wants to go on
And on and on and on…

With this in mind.
Three people to look up to.
Realises that to something, he is not prone.

It’s nothing as it seems. Everything he needs, it’s home.
Every fucking thing was a delusion, the only thing he owns, it’s home.

Extension of Ament’s musings. Damn! There is something I can relate to…