(no subject)
I am metal rigid and cold, tensile and strong,
I am wood, a splinter in a child's finger, and stair in an old house...
I am a safety rail of aluminum, that can't quite get a grip.. on being just a rail..
I would be concrete, but only if I were in the bottom of a waterfall
well polished, but I may never be accused as such,
a soapstone, but not so clean, I do give direction, a path, a route to cut across...
the metal that is existence
I am here, I sometimes wish I was not
I breath and sometimes wonder if it's a waste
Particularly when I'm talking...
my sounds fall on deaf ears, my actions seem to fall into unworthy hands
but I keep trying.. my metal rivets creak, my wood planks give and sway in the ropes that bind..
I wonder sometimes what exactly defines me.
I am that bridge you must cross
that mountain you must climb
that harsh worded old wise man that really means well
but inside I am still just a child
whispering in my dreams
I sway in the wind, my old ropes lightly hovering from one cliff to another..
I feel suspended.. trapped .. caught between two places ...
unable to go back... much to far along to wish too.. yet unable to fully fling myself across this ravine...
I transport others to a place I may not go...
I am a monster... I am your best friend... I am the one you count on.. the one that lets you go.. I am a priest that studies no faith... but has faith.. in the study of self...I am a hangover to an alcoholic, an alarm to an insomniac.. but I am the medicine to your lies.. and the truth to your drama...
I have yet to fully understand what It is I study....
But I am getting there...
I'm the antithesis to a twelve step program...
I fall down the stairs..
I don't describe in detail non mechanical things..
but then again.. most of us are just machines
I try to look beyond my faults... but the cage me at times.
I try to be something I am not... but don't we all?
I am many things to many people.. and no two would ever come to agree...
just what it is that defines me
but i am fully ok with that.
I sleep.. but not enough.. I eat.. sometimes too much... sometimes not enough...
but I will never be accused of falling into a routine..
I am late, or early, but never on time.. I can write a poem... and it may or not rhyme
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I am sleep..................................................
I am wood, a splinter in a child's finger, and stair in an old house...
I am a safety rail of aluminum, that can't quite get a grip.. on being just a rail..
I would be concrete, but only if I were in the bottom of a waterfall
well polished, but I may never be accused as such,
a soapstone, but not so clean, I do give direction, a path, a route to cut across...
the metal that is existence
I am here, I sometimes wish I was not
I breath and sometimes wonder if it's a waste
Particularly when I'm talking...
my sounds fall on deaf ears, my actions seem to fall into unworthy hands
but I keep trying.. my metal rivets creak, my wood planks give and sway in the ropes that bind..
I wonder sometimes what exactly defines me.
I am that bridge you must cross
that mountain you must climb
that harsh worded old wise man that really means well
but inside I am still just a child
whispering in my dreams
I sway in the wind, my old ropes lightly hovering from one cliff to another..
I feel suspended.. trapped .. caught between two places ...
unable to go back... much to far along to wish too.. yet unable to fully fling myself across this ravine...
I transport others to a place I may not go...
I am a monster... I am your best friend... I am the one you count on.. the one that lets you go.. I am a priest that studies no faith... but has faith.. in the study of self...I am a hangover to an alcoholic, an alarm to an insomniac.. but I am the medicine to your lies.. and the truth to your drama...
I have yet to fully understand what It is I study....
But I am getting there...
I'm the antithesis to a twelve step program...
I fall down the stairs..
I don't describe in detail non mechanical things..
but then again.. most of us are just machines
I try to look beyond my faults... but the cage me at times.
I try to be something I am not... but don't we all?
I am many things to many people.. and no two would ever come to agree...
just what it is that defines me
but i am fully ok with that.
I sleep.. but not enough.. I eat.. sometimes too much... sometimes not enough...
but I will never be accused of falling into a routine..
I am late, or early, but never on time.. I can write a poem... and it may or not rhyme
I wouldn't have it any other way.
I am sleep..................................................