This out slowly;
Waiting for an explosion.
Or the careful erosion
Of everything
Our loveĀ has built.
This out slowly;
Waiting for an explosion.
Or the careful erosion
Of everything
Our loveĀ has built.
That reveal
The desire
To conceal
The fire
That burns in our hearts
He tries to realize
How the wise Capitalize
On situations such as these.
She hides behind the face of many masks,
One for beauty,
One for business,
And one for completing tasks.
I had visions of late nights
With you seated in my comfy chair,
Belting out improvised blues, while
I loosely strum the 12 bars and 3 chords
That tell my life’s story.
We would create
Passionate songs about love and lust
Building a unique rhythm
Formed only by us.
Like two dreamers
Who melt into a single fantasy.
Somehow I feel your pain.
As two broken flowers
Along separate paths.
Trampled by the same careless foot.
Marching off to a misunderstood destination.
An old man watches me through my mirror.
It couldn’t be clearer,
His days are gone.
Like his old hippie song.
Old man staring.
Still wanting, still caring.
Like the mirror’s a door.
And his eyes just a whore
Lost in the past.
Where time moved too fast.
And men would fight for the right to
Want something more.
If I could define the line,
Between reality and
What is mine.
Nothing would clearly
Bind
Me to an ideal that is
In my mind.
I read your lines
And they stimulate
The unrefined.
Relinquishing all that is known.
I desire your light like a vision to the formerly blind.
A child that once was grown.
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/10/30/your-daily-word-prompt-relinquish-october-30-2019/
Today a flower cried
Because the moonbeam lied,
About a love the bumble bee tried to hide
From the all too nosey thorny rose.
I
Was wrong.
Too much art
And not enough gory.
Sell sell sell!
And tell the same old story.
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