baby don't call me buddy
evening fallen empty again
and so full of everything
that might not have been
would never have become this
wonderful, vagrant friend
kissing softly inside my head
when the sun has settled
behind the far side
shadowing me and my dear friend
to writhe in comforting emptiness
this sport is wild mad insane
and willfully indulged
where no one but the ghosts
of satisfactions never born
can cheer us on and wave their arms
occasionally I'll notice something
wrong it seems but sweet your song
brings me down again to trespass
upon the most natural of things
to lose myself where no one sings
and though outside my door
do people wander and endure
their own sweet nothings poured
out by their own most natural
of nature's whores begotten
they must be less than nothing
for my own is so intensely mine
and only wanting more each time
do I embrace it once again
to fall and swallow all your pain
fallow my mind is hardly so!
it simply seethes with cares and woe
the images my friend does bring
instill such fear and hope enticing
bleeding me out of my mind
but darkness always lifts again
too soon! where is my empty friend
without whom now my life begins
each sun's light rising into morning
another chance to move along
before my friend will find me once again
5 comments:
you really are somethink ...
every time I read this it just means more and more to me..
A voice like no one else's: that means everything to me.
Merci beau coup, Ms Maher. Very very.
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