First thoughts I dispense with caution
Notion with an ironic flaw
A split second occurrence
With no stage for reflection
Containing irrational undertones
Speed ‘Becomes’ essence
Dismay is uncontrolled
Outlines feasible complications Conversation is to-be heeded
True words believed, transpired with time
Character prevails via choices
Shaped by unrushed competence
Instant verbs evolve and mature
Sharp decisions cease to race
Knowledgeable peace combines
Sheds light on existence
Judgement swallowed by reality
Being misconceived becomes scarce
Harmony elected with a mutual dignity.
Wipe the moisture from words spoken
Then was a different time.
A shallow belief in the healing power
Not only appearances change
Internal aspects develop
Maturing to produce surprising acts.
I wish we would meet once more
My personality now encouraged to spread.
Stood from where it hid
Shadowed and intimidated
By beauty and popularity.
I was neither in my own eyes
Abuse proved the ideals of my self worth
Mirrored and lived
Through the script of thoughts.
Still my reflection is disgruntled
Shattered pieces of soul
Depicting memories of scattered remains.
When time passes by what’s left. Regret, guilt and shame, being bored?. Is that a life to live, a story to share with young loved ones.
No, procrastinating is an humorous excuse used too often. If you want to live a calm, comfortable life then that’s fine, but don’t talk bigger, or imagine a better future if you’re happy.
No-one wants to hear stories of excuses and what-if stories of things that could’ve happened to them.
Lost dreams take up to much air space and mind room. There’s nothing to stop a productive imagination reproducing what it sees. Living the dreams that seem far away.
You just have to want it bad enough, to be bothered to try and grasp it with both hands.
Everyone loves a trier, even if you fail you tried. Tell the story of how you went for it, how you followed your heart. It’s an adventure if nothing else.
There’s no way to recreate the feelings of a light bulb moment when it hits. The excitement it projects.
Do it before it’s too late.
This speech is inside my head every day. My gut telling me I want more. And there’s only one way…
Whichever way round I end up when I pass, it won’t last
Even in death I won’t find the right path
Mind pulling up and then channelling down
When I’m lost do I even make a sound?
Limbo is my forevermore, bleak is my host
Life or death, in people’s eyes, I’m just a ghost.
Bring forth the sensations
of living, being alive,
Breathe the energy
art, music, love…,
whatever touches your being
embrace, for there’s
no chance to control
the piece of artistic magic
as a gift
to touch the soul,
Me, I’m seduced, lost
to the emotional hand from where
intense words are written,
They swallow me whole
draw me in,
urging my heart
to skip a beat,
And my senses
Crave to be remembered, etched in history
In my words, I’ll always leave some mystery
Speaking though my head feels dismembered
Lost or found is how I’ll be remembered
The blind sees many depressed rhymes
Enlightened, will read between the lines
View behind the eyes to see deep
Hidden meaning’s that made me weep
Words just scratch against the surface
Casual thoughts produced as a circus
Poetry Masks a majority of emotional acts
In the truer words, I’m never holding back
Take own life while personality in song?
Leave this realm incase the mind functions wrong
Intrusive forces weighing the mind to sink
Desperately searching for some missing link
Invisible in body and the voice is weak
Waiting patiently for the peace I seek
Invade my story see what you find
Interpret the words I’ll one day leave behind.