Poems.
I've been busy, but none of them are amazing.
My Favorite:
More In the Rain.
Say she’s going nowhere.
Say she’s so naïve.
Say she’ll never quite know
what the world can be.
Say she’s just a girl,
who’s never brought it down.
Say she needs some fencing in-
had too much branching out.
But you should hear her talk of angels,
you should watch her eyes light up.
You can see the world’s behind them
when she talks about true love.
She lives more freely, laughs too loud,
been known to go insane.
She says she loves the colors in the bow,
but she sees more in the rain.
Say she just knows nothing,
that her world is all her own,
say she’s crazy, say it
it’s what you’ve always known.
But you should hear her talk of angels,
you should watch her eyes light up.
You can see the world’s behind them,
when she talks about true love.
She lives more freely, laughs too loud,
been known to go insane.
She says she loves the colors in the bow,
but she sees more in the rain
Say you just can’t take her,
she’s not for you, at all.
Tell me that you all but hate
this gentile, fragile, doll.
Say that she’s not ready
that she’s made of bright, Pure gold.
And say that she’s too innocent,
for one like me to hold.
But you should see that she’s my angel,
you should hear my heart speed up
And you can see the world’s behind us,
when she talks about our love.
She lives more freely, loves too hard,
is known to be insane.
She says she loves the way her world stands still,
when she whispers out my name.
I'm so glad
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
I’m so glad I can sit and talk forever,
with nothing really to say.
And that you’re not one of them.
They need each other,
they feed each other.
Not you, no.
You’re mine, they can’t have you.
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
I’m so glad you and I
don’t depend on the day,
I’m so glad you and I
don’t depend on the mood.
I’m so glad you don’t
change with the person in front of you,
and that you don’t promise not to tell,
because you know you’ll always tell me,
no matter what.
I’m so glad you won’t die
without them, like they seem to always fail
without each other.
And I’m so glad you have other topics of conversation.
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
You’re yours, or maybe mine,
either way, better than theirs.
I’m so glad your emotions
aren’t on their wavelengths,
and that your entire image doesn’t
correspond directly with
their image of you. That’s not cool.
I’m so glad you’re not one of theirs,
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
You
You told me once a subject,
now I think you are the one.
I just need to write a poem,
that fits to my defense.
I may be hypocritical,
or even rude and vane
but I’m willing to admit it,
if you’ll only say the same.
I used you, more than once,
a year, if I recall.
I used you in an awful way,
but I now regret, indeed.
For how can someone innocent
pretend she knows what’s right?
How could I tell, to even me
that I was greater than
the one who stood there by you,
and knew your own true self?
How can I be quite proud enough
to think myself the best?
I was, however wrong, though
a rude, arrogant fool.
I used you, and I used her,
and I cannot let it go.
For after my abusing,
you tried it once, on me.
And only then could I but see,
the true and utter wrong.
Yet, although I can use you,
I see, when you use me,
the problems plain before my face,
and why it simply, cannot be.
So, what’s the point? You ask me,
as if I even know.
I think, though, what I mean is this:
You have to let me go.
I’m sorry for delusion,
but I’ve finally seen my wrongs,
and, although you call me phony,
I never will again.
Upon your false, I learned my own,
and just what it could be.
I turn now from, this guilty act,
and walk upon the light.
I made my mistake but one time,
and none shall be made more.
This my defense: You should have seen,
that I, a two-faced whore.
Hypocritical
Maybe I am a hypocrite.
I wouldn’t deny it, that’s for sure.
Or maybe, just maybe,
on a nice day,
you might just say that I
“learn from my mistakes.”
That sounds so much nicer doesn’t it?
And yet…
Why are all my mistakes at your fault,
and why, when given the chance to repeat,
at mine,
I’ve finally learned that lesson?
That’s not fair to you,
I guess you could say.
But maybe we should have known.
There’s my hypocritical side again.
Yes, we both should have known,
I think.
I knew, from your part,
but from mine, I still accepted it.
Now, I’ve learned
but then, of course I didn’t.
Why?
But obviously you don’t know.
From either angle, that is.
If you knew, then why would you be here?
Why would you put my in this situation?
You know, the same one
I put you in, not so long ago.
If I’m a hypocrite, you’re innocent.
And if I’m innocent,
then I’m a hypocrite.
That’s all, I guess.
Ups and Downs.
Never,
ever. Always
vulnerable, and never
even close to
real.
Sometimes, no,
always,
trying to figure
it out, and falling
short of what I
feel like
I need,
even though, I
don’t.
Tell me
how, I can
ever just let
everything go, and
never question you, and your
defense, again. Please.
<3
My Favorite:
More In the Rain.
Say she’s going nowhere.
Say she’s so naïve.
Say she’ll never quite know
what the world can be.
Say she’s just a girl,
who’s never brought it down.
Say she needs some fencing in-
had too much branching out.
But you should hear her talk of angels,
you should watch her eyes light up.
You can see the world’s behind them
when she talks about true love.
She lives more freely, laughs too loud,
been known to go insane.
She says she loves the colors in the bow,
but she sees more in the rain.
Say she just knows nothing,
that her world is all her own,
say she’s crazy, say it
it’s what you’ve always known.
But you should hear her talk of angels,
you should watch her eyes light up.
You can see the world’s behind them,
when she talks about true love.
She lives more freely, laughs too loud,
been known to go insane.
She says she loves the colors in the bow,
but she sees more in the rain
Say you just can’t take her,
she’s not for you, at all.
Tell me that you all but hate
this gentile, fragile, doll.
Say that she’s not ready
that she’s made of bright, Pure gold.
And say that she’s too innocent,
for one like me to hold.
But you should see that she’s my angel,
you should hear my heart speed up
And you can see the world’s behind us,
when she talks about our love.
She lives more freely, loves too hard,
is known to be insane.
She says she loves the way her world stands still,
when she whispers out my name.
I'm so glad
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
I’m so glad I can sit and talk forever,
with nothing really to say.
And that you’re not one of them.
They need each other,
they feed each other.
Not you, no.
You’re mine, they can’t have you.
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
I’m so glad you and I
don’t depend on the day,
I’m so glad you and I
don’t depend on the mood.
I’m so glad you don’t
change with the person in front of you,
and that you don’t promise not to tell,
because you know you’ll always tell me,
no matter what.
I’m so glad you won’t die
without them, like they seem to always fail
without each other.
And I’m so glad you have other topics of conversation.
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
You’re yours, or maybe mine,
either way, better than theirs.
I’m so glad your emotions
aren’t on their wavelengths,
and that your entire image doesn’t
correspond directly with
their image of you. That’s not cool.
I’m so glad you’re not one of theirs,
I’m so glad you’re not one of them.
You
You told me once a subject,
now I think you are the one.
I just need to write a poem,
that fits to my defense.
I may be hypocritical,
or even rude and vane
but I’m willing to admit it,
if you’ll only say the same.
I used you, more than once,
a year, if I recall.
I used you in an awful way,
but I now regret, indeed.
For how can someone innocent
pretend she knows what’s right?
How could I tell, to even me
that I was greater than
the one who stood there by you,
and knew your own true self?
How can I be quite proud enough
to think myself the best?
I was, however wrong, though
a rude, arrogant fool.
I used you, and I used her,
and I cannot let it go.
For after my abusing,
you tried it once, on me.
And only then could I but see,
the true and utter wrong.
Yet, although I can use you,
I see, when you use me,
the problems plain before my face,
and why it simply, cannot be.
So, what’s the point? You ask me,
as if I even know.
I think, though, what I mean is this:
You have to let me go.
I’m sorry for delusion,
but I’ve finally seen my wrongs,
and, although you call me phony,
I never will again.
Upon your false, I learned my own,
and just what it could be.
I turn now from, this guilty act,
and walk upon the light.
I made my mistake but one time,
and none shall be made more.
This my defense: You should have seen,
that I, a two-faced whore.
Hypocritical
Maybe I am a hypocrite.
I wouldn’t deny it, that’s for sure.
Or maybe, just maybe,
on a nice day,
you might just say that I
“learn from my mistakes.”
That sounds so much nicer doesn’t it?
And yet…
Why are all my mistakes at your fault,
and why, when given the chance to repeat,
at mine,
I’ve finally learned that lesson?
That’s not fair to you,
I guess you could say.
But maybe we should have known.
There’s my hypocritical side again.
Yes, we both should have known,
I think.
I knew, from your part,
but from mine, I still accepted it.
Now, I’ve learned
but then, of course I didn’t.
Why?
But obviously you don’t know.
From either angle, that is.
If you knew, then why would you be here?
Why would you put my in this situation?
You know, the same one
I put you in, not so long ago.
If I’m a hypocrite, you’re innocent.
And if I’m innocent,
then I’m a hypocrite.
That’s all, I guess.
Ups and Downs.
Never,
ever. Always
vulnerable, and never
even close to
real.
Sometimes, no,
always,
trying to figure
it out, and falling
short of what I
feel like
I need,
even though, I
don’t.
Tell me
how, I can
ever just let
everything go, and
never question you, and your
defense, again. Please.
<3