Untitled 8

Untitled Poetry

The quiet of a nighttime with
Nobody around
The stillness in the air is such
A peaceful sound

And all the chords and promises
I couldn't keep track of is
And all the lions dancing in
The center of the square
Where tourists beg for money
And pennies in their hair
It's such a melancholy dream
Where nothing is quite what it seems
Do you miss me do you think of me
Or am I just

Hunger in a lightning storm
And rain in heaven's crown
I'm tired of keeping track of
What's up and down
Can you hear me in the distance
Or do I even make a sound
In the ballads that you're writing
Do I even make a sound
Will you reach for me when I reach out
And will tomorrow bring you back to me
Or will I stay in never, Neverland
With only loneliness for my company?

With only loneliness for my company...

Be free...
Be free...

Scriptures on the table
With bookmarked pages and the rest
And maybe if we're able
We can try to get some rest
I think about you constantly
And wonder what went so wrong
So I'll mention you in vagueries
In the verses of my songs

(Will you even hear me?)

But I like the quiet
And I'm not so
Grieved as I like to seem
Empty sheets are cooler
Than the one's we rolled between
Empty pillows rest a wearier head
But I wake up feeling better
Instead of waking up
Wishing I was dead...

Be free...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's not a story, just feel what the words make you feel.

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Morningglory's picture


The words made me feel... sigh

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