penguinI had to share that ^_^
Buried TreasureBuried TreasureBuried Treasure
Words seem to build up At the back of my throat So much I want to say Figuring it’d be better if I don’t
Knowing it’d be best
To simply walk away Still looking for your smile Makes me want to stay
But we know
I need to move on and leave you behind Some treasures are buried And left for another to find We could have tomorrow We could see it through But for now, it’s goodbye to you
Memories keep replaying As opportunities pass me by How can I look around
The MusicianCurtains open for the guitar man Play by ear the discordant tune that is the Melody of the harmony that could never be Cacophonous, the tune that once felt so sweet BittersweetThe Musician
The aftertaste of
What was and what could be and once more How a thought could be much more than I thought a thought could be
Oh, the melody of the space of the in between As the birds flitter and flirt
Pass by and pass Music is made as this guitar is played and Play my strings, baby
Play the sensation that makes you temptation Make what can of what you were gifted to d
Poetry with a side of creamMoonless earthen nights and the ethereal effect of surrealistic notions and darker fantasies flittering and flirting as they pass by and passPoetry with a side of cream
Fantasies no more than guilty pleasures dressed and draped with a fearful realization-no-conviction that the fascination with the unreal is more than just a reeling concern for those involved and those barely a shadow of a thought in the grander scheme of involving instances involving
Nothing
Nothing and no one to blame but the shortcomings of mental perception and the inability to make reality a perception without imagination
Imagine this &nb
Too Many Sleepless NightsI am not sane at this moment. At this moment I can feel,Too Many Sleepless Nights
Sleep's wish gripping upon the edges of my mind
And pulling me down.
I can feel the foggy shadow of my mind's essence
condensing and weighing me to the ground
And bringing me to realize,
Maybe this is what sweet dreams are made of.
Sweet dreams are made of..
Sweet dreams are made of..
Sweet dreams are made of... And i can not finish what I wish to say
Because i know no more what i'd like to say and... as my head pounds from the rhythm my heart has set forth I set this rhythm down to pape
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One should never rub bottoms with a porcupine.
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contest - [link]
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contest - [link]
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Live your days to the fullest as if they were your last, because you never know what might happen.
and
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Check out my gallery and my prints
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