Fresh lyrics rather than poems

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by Wit-and-Wisdom, Aug 18, 2009.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. All to have music added to them, wouldn't dare classify it as poetry.


    I often wonder to myself
    What is it to be lonely?
    This renders me thick.
    Well…very briefly.

    It’s never feeling hand on thigh,
    Knowing well what it is to die.
    It’s the bitter grasp of reality
    Seducing you slyly to fatality
    It’s the world living around you
    But thankfully never with you
    It’s being happy with life and delusion
    And dreading any form of inclusion

    Wait, wait, wait
    For the sweet, saving peace
    When at long, long last
    Our tired hearts can cease.
    With little to live for
    It shouldn’t take a minute
    Though I know fate well
    So life shall be infinite

    Do you ever really wonder,
    What it is to be lonely?
    You must be very thick
    Well…akin to me

    It’s never having lips on yours,
    Never having your hand meet hers
    It’s trusting nothing, no one but death
    Wishing your neck to feel it’s breath
    It’s drinking so as to disappear
    Never paying emotional arrears
    It’s being happy with life and delusion
    And dreading any form of inclusion

    It’s being content,
    Never having your ear bent
    By a crushing boor
    With deservedly more

    -------------------------------------------------

    Box Bedroom Rebel

    But for the dust
    I am lonesome now
    I urge you, please
    Come visit
    For days no soul
    Has come visit

    Books and poetry
    Can suffice for now
    But soon I will need
    A hand to hold
    Or lips to kiss
    Hurry, I grow cold

    Too afraid to open the window
    Too afraid I’ll see the world
    …Or the world will see me
    What a travesty that would be

    Too afraid to see what’s become?
    Become of all I claim to know
    …Or what has become of me
    What a tragedy that would be

    But for a heartbeat
    I am lifeless now
    I urge you, please
    Come rescue
    I’ll hold a day or two
    For you to rescue

    It’s too dark to see
    I am as blind as you
    When you laughably said
    You tend to like me
    But I am dead, oh
    I am practically dead

    Too afraid to open the blind
    Too afraid I’ll see the world
    …Or the world will see me
    What a terrible tragedy that would be

    Too afraid to see what’s become?
    Become of all I claim to know
    …Or what has become of me
    What a terrible travesty it would be

    Oh
    A Plead in vain
    Will lead to
    A slice in vain
    Oh I beg, come rescue

    If I can’t see my problems
    They aren’t there
    If I can’t see the world
    Then it isn’t there
     
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.