look at us all
we're all the same
each of us
by a different name
we try to break out
of our brown paper packing
no one's that strong
it's courage we're lacking
we try to avoid
keeping our label
but diversity's false
a small child's fable
all pawns in our game
each one of us dies
we're all the same
victim to lies
the artists that we know by simplytears, literature
Literature
the artists that we know
With hands as soft as the summer sky,
he molds the silken clay.
Into scenes of years gone by,
memories of yesterday.
With eyes of amber's brightest hue,
she watches the breeze blow by.
And paints an image of the new,
birds that start to fly.
With hearts of fire all through time,
they shape the way of things.
From the way the wind makes soft bells chime,
to the birth of stately kings.
With thoughts of gold and silver streak,
We see them and we glow.
Because we come to hear them speak,
the artists that we konw.
Just sitting here
breathing you in
taking you in
serene soft smiles
play across my lips
iluminating my face
everything's calm
noting's wrong
you taste so right
nothing but perfection
in your kiss
and as I watch you
your fingers make soft music
more beautiful than what they strum
I can only have one thought.
I'm crying for you friend,
for the sadness you have written.
wishing I could hold you,
for your pain to go away.
I want to hear my voice,
saying you'll be alright.
I can no longer be sure,
that you will always be ok.
oldest friend of mine,
does it help to say I love you?
Night in Troy.
How alone yet not lonely.
I almost wish he wouldn't come home.
You know,
I call him father.
This room is hot.
The fire escape beckons,
and I regret that it is winter.
Bare feet don't do too well,
on a night as cold as this.
I take the chance of cold.
Three stories up.
So glad I can't see down.
Intolerable fear of heights.
The first star I see,
well not a star at all.
Man made and blinking.
A satellite.
The metal feels harsh,
burns my hands and feet.
Yet the sight of the city,
all hazy when it could be pitch,
is almost endearing,
surrounded by a halo,
of artificial light.
The breeze is so light.
The so
Climb up on my windowsil
to watch this fading city fall asleep
how will I sleep in a room so raw
with nothing to shut out the light
manmade insomnia
of bulbs on the street
I wish I wish I wish
hide from the light
wait for the day
I wish I wish I wish.
Creep along my back
across my chest
teasing my aching skin
glide up along my thigh
I pull away
self concious
touch my face
trace my lips
gently close my eyes
follow my profile
down until they're stoped
barrier of cloth
all I wear
carefully selected
white
soft
to cover what I'm not yet willing to give
caress my collar bone
by the back of my neck
pull me to you
to deliver a kiss
my trembling lips
tug my hair
all over my back
trying to be everywhere
in one moment
bruising my emotion
by lifting
gone from my body
to play my song
Piano hands.
Think of
you
are stuck in
my head
hurts like
nothing else on
my mind
is occupied by
your words
make me
quiver
of arrows bloodied by
Cupid
believes in
love
should be
shared
thoughts sometimes hurt like when you fall
again
I find myself lost in
your eyes
are blue
she lays there,
listlessly.
when did her eyes lose it?
their life.
I see it in your eyes.
why not hers?
speaks so rarely,
never asks for anything.
mechanical.
sleep.
eat.
dress.
watch.
eat.
watch.
eat.
watch.
does she truly watch,
the flickering lights,
dancing before her face.
what does she think?
of lovers long ago?
of conquests led to victories?
of loss?
of gain?
mysteriously.
almost dead.
I cry.
whisper to me...
your meaning.
Lay down on the grass,
under a crabapple tree.
caress my senses,
a gentle night.
grass and dirt,
blooming tree,
lovely scents.
twittering softly,
small birds,
surrounding me with gentle sound.
a warm breeze.
a comforting darkness.
I close my eyes.
a delicate petal,
of a soft light pink,
flutters gracefully,
from the tree above,
to my closed lips.
kissed.
by a blossom.
It rained so beautifully hard yesterday
I felt I'd made love to the sky
and lying afterward, so spent, so swept
whilst soaking in his sweat,
he wrapped himself arround mine
and sung sweet sonnets to my soul
no longer does the hard ground sound
with the pounding pitter patter
of my love's tears
but the world feels cleansed
and my sheets seem white
my heart not weighed by years