short poems about life and experiences, continued from book I |
Last Remarks from the Highest Tower, Pt. 2: We shouted at the naysayers For their doubts We ran against the masses On a premonition So taketh thouself to the highest tower And scream what you're thinking It could be anything Problems don't exist If no one ever knows Of them I'm Not That Malleable?!: Metals Are an interesting proposition Some are versatile Conductors of energy Others weak, like clay Molded easily into shapes Impossible by the IM forces Which surround them, The sea of negatives Forcibly band-aiding them together Copper, Cu Is very ductile, Drawn into thin strips of wire And become electric On the sounds of a guitar Sodium, Na Is very explosive, Outside of containers, Guarding it from air Never to know the truth Magnesium, Mg Is very malleable, Pounded into sheets Beat up like an abused child Just wanting to be loved Are we metals? It certainly makes for An interesting proposition I know, however, that I'm not that malleable See Yourself: If just once I could see myself As I am Not as I seem to be Feel the earth And dig it up With a shovel; A death drive, bring out the best in us See yourself For what you're worth Boys are a dime a dozen Haven't figured you out yet Lies and their lying friends Compulsiveness That's what I am But I haven't figured you out yet I Do Believe I Just Interdicted, My B.. Oh, It's You Two. Now I'm Glad: So fucking happy Lies :/ yeah ur right Oh So what're you up to Hw True. As always *sigh* Mmhmmm I still have questions Ok.. What is it ? (Everything I say is royal ocean Doesn't mean I don't bullshit) Words of Wisdom: Call out Curse and cuss and squirm To make them realize Why Reach out Fight and break and turn To make them see what You've learned The Crowded, Desolate Hallway: The place we see everyday Of the week anyways Becomes crowded, Desolate even Like an old abandoned home Waiting for the wrecking But it never comes The corners decorated with mirrors The walls plastered with art To make it seem like a home; Far from it A strain for the faint of heart, Lessons are learned Battles are fought In the crowded, desolate hallway I End on This: In the end It doesn't really matter What were we fighting for? Can't remember The sounds and sights Of the world, breaking apart But take solace in the fact Our heist, At least right now Lives on I won't be careful Can't say much about you I'll end on this; A high note For the trumpeter Who toots his own horn Once in a lifetime - Many thanks to Minus the Bear, Dance Gavin Dance, and Luke |