| ...Crushing Down On By Billy |
My mind burden heavy, my emotion rout, raw and revealing signs of
wear. The tear once ripped forever it's repair, time healing all but too
often infinite in length, how long the scab I bare. At my own
personal cost, the depth of compassion bottomless in pits the fall fatal, fear
disregarded the finality and fruition to there forebear.
Twisting around twirled stairs, missing rungs, parts of life
missing where. Encased a captor glass, brown bottled, opaque view, dulled
and faded as if nothing new. I accent my journey unstable, my will and
soul young and able. Horns of stubbornness curled that of a ram,
chipped and dented as is the ego which once would let damn.
Pulled in directions from unknown forces, facing the sources being
thrown off courses. Regaining composure, containing exposure I deny my
flight, fight with might. The walls built tall, down the hall where I
hide it all. Built over time, harden chromed in steel a fortress
defended with great zeal.
An energy builds within the procrastinating my sin, fueled under
pressure the double edged sword of my helper. Narrow the margin,
exhausting the toll emanate the hole stressed by the stain hard on my soul. A
place and fate I tempt with ease, in the turmoil as I please, holding
up, crushing down on knees.
Just above, the bottom beneath the upper most layer, in the middle
of sorts random rambling thoughts and their cohorts. A path becomes
availed bailed and a leaving of constraints, that once confined peace now
in mind. That is mine of course.
wear. The tear once ripped forever it's repair, time healing all but too
often infinite in length, how long the scab I bare. At my own
personal cost, the depth of compassion bottomless in pits the fall fatal, fear
disregarded the finality and fruition to there forebear.
Twisting around twirled stairs, missing rungs, parts of life
missing where. Encased a captor glass, brown bottled, opaque view, dulled
and faded as if nothing new. I accent my journey unstable, my will and
soul young and able. Horns of stubbornness curled that of a ram,
chipped and dented as is the ego which once would let damn.
Pulled in directions from unknown forces, facing the sources being
thrown off courses. Regaining composure, containing exposure I deny my
flight, fight with might. The walls built tall, down the hall where I
hide it all. Built over time, harden chromed in steel a fortress
defended with great zeal.
An energy builds within the procrastinating my sin, fueled under
pressure the double edged sword of my helper. Narrow the margin,
exhausting the toll emanate the hole stressed by the stain hard on my soul. A
place and fate I tempt with ease, in the turmoil as I please, holding
up, crushing down on knees.
Just above, the bottom beneath the upper most layer, in the middle
of sorts random rambling thoughts and their cohorts. A path becomes
availed bailed and a leaving of constraints, that once confined peace now
in mind. That is mine of course.
ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR
...Not Lost On Me
...Warm Feet Wiggle
...You Ever Never Knew
I See You...
...It's Knowing When
...Back To My Baby
...As It Beats
...My Way Back
...And Far Gone
...Some One Touched
...Not Lost On Me
...Warm Feet Wiggle
...You Ever Never Knew
I See You...
...It's Knowing When
...Back To My Baby
...As It Beats
...My Way Back
...And Far Gone
...Some One Touched
| New Hampshire Writers |
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