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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2257945
A little rumination of the effects we have on others
Ink

I'll be your ink,
On the paper that you leave for when they find your body.
It'd say don't blame the mother or child,
They're just dressed in society.

I'll be your shoulder,
It's up to you if we are angels or devils.
That's the kind of wisdom you're born with,
To keep somewhere safe for never.

Don't you fear me, I'm not really here,
Just debris that’s all built on fear.
We'll buy a van and drive it into the ocean,
Where nothing will be jealous of all we've done.

I'll be your card,
Ignored up a sleeve until the times they get too hard.
Then I'll play the hero,
Look the crisis in the eye and say we can run so very far.

I'll be your disaster,
That way my memory will be longer lasting.
To be a flash of pain,
Is better than fading on down to nothing.

Don’t you fear me, I’m not really there,
Maybe you’ll see, what’s true ain’t what’s fair.
We’ll buy a car and just revel in the motion,
We're just aliens in their eyes and that's freedom.
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