you didn't ask anything, nothing at all
on top of a mountain where you see for miles
down to my valley where it was last call
I played it all out, a map marked for you
from the middle of the beginning with all new false starts
the trail had some bends that didn't get plotted
it rends just like fabric and it all falls apart
I got lost for awhile in the chambers of my heart
couldn't find my way back into your open arms
secure in my mind with an ego that bends
and snaps like a twig under footsteps that harm
blind is the trail where roses are strewn
words never whispered from love songs not heard
insight doesn't enter, the skies remain blue
each line that was written lays North undisturbed
here where your west was once all but won
you didn't ask anything, I heard in my head
on the top of a mountain top where you see for miles
last rites are said as I bury my dead
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
No comments:
Post a Comment