a spare and rash decision
maybe through premonition
or take time to think it out
when your in doubt
think about your words
how they can be taken
what's to come and what's to occurs
your words are the manifestation
thinking things into existence
dajavo and it's relevance
happiness or sorrow
of the past tense or tomorrow
describing your lover in silhouette
I swore I'd never forget
how the wind brushed her hair
standing in front of the lights at the county fair
the way the water dripped
from her eyebrows to her lips
And rippled the puddle beneath
that soaked her shoes in the street
And we danced in the rain
the announcer came over the loud speaker and proclaimed
that the days events were cancelled
we went under a canopy where they were lighting candles
to honor the longevity of the town
we sat down on the ground
She leaned into me and gave me a kiss
was this love
I shouldn't include conclusions like this
love like the fair, goes away
though the thought is that it'll be back someday
I choose my words carefully
cause for me, everything leaves
if I told her I felt the same
it would just prolong the pain
dancing in the rain I felt alive
it was warm and the sun shined
light in both of our eyes
love blinds
And times change
like minds
often strain
I am an author of pain
the word "love" for me is the flame
that burns my world to ash
rash decisions when asked
if I can share my heart
listen closely... I've never torn my own apart
it was always by someone else
that I loved more than myself
And handed them the key
that ultimately
when they turn it kills me
left again to pick up pieces and rebuild
I'm tired of being killed
I've not much life left
I took the hand I was dealt and fallowed the steps
now this is my life
as good as it gets
I just pray that I'm not sober
when my time comes and it's all over
at least I can leave my poems
I've wrote of love, madness, and the unknown
And all without using my name
it's in passages throughout my page
I'll reveal it before I leave this stage
it's unimportant and I'm not famous
some of my writings have been outrageous
And unforseen consequence can be contagious
I have no fear of my peers
but I feel not all know what's goes on here
the imagination and manifestation of art
your either a poet or artist or you aren't
And those that aren't can never understand
the artists eyes or the writers hand
now with my hand I have goodbye
thoughts to word I voice goodnight
finish typing this I write
And fall into the peace of sleep
where all's organized and neat
The watchman of time
Agent of Karma
keeping in line
Minding Dharma...
©akathatguy
A