sitting with a pitcher at the local watering hole
June 2009
life seems to be falling apart at the seams. for what it's worth, we never get to keep the dreams. we set our sights soaring through the sky, above the times and places that make us sigh. but yet, that sigh, the final release, can't seem to alleviate my deep yearning of peace.
There is a great sadness that's found my days. Creeping over my way, inextricably manifested, as if man out from clay. It's so rough, so tough, to keep up this smile. Those closest to my heart haven't made the impression, I'm really worth the while. Happy thoughts for dreary days; sending sweetness and sunshine straight into your hearts, yet you'll never witness just how it rips me apart. I invested in love, in happiness, in karmic releif. I'm helpless and pefectly lined up for the sheath. I can't be saved and I won't help myself, I've accepted that faith, has put me up on the shelf. Collector of dust, maybe a few novelty pennies of rust. Stories, tales, Oh the adventures of my time, are left with me to vicariously influence your mind. I never asked to be Lady of the Attic. Keeper of the eminance grise, unforgiven member of this underground realm. Where reality consists of the absurd unknown not even your parents were courteously shown. Another day in the life, never will you enjoy, as your mind was conditioned to be played like a toy. I am sad, unsatisfied, fed up with this life. Be a lady, make a baby, shine on as his wife. It bugs me how this all rhymes, cause my life never works along any doted lines. Contracts of life, you're never supposed to make, but once you're in, never should you break. I've found myself in some emotional rut; where ashes of gray await the discarded butt.
life seems to be falling apart at the seams. for what it's worth, we never get to keep the dreams. we set our sights soaring through the sky, above the times and places that make us sigh. but yet, that sigh, the final release, can't seem to alleviate my deep yearning of peace.
There is a great sadness that's found my days. Creeping over my way, inextricably manifested, as if man out from clay. It's so rough, so tough, to keep up this smile. Those closest to my heart haven't made the impression, I'm really worth the while. Happy thoughts for dreary days; sending sweetness and sunshine straight into your hearts, yet you'll never witness just how it rips me apart. I invested in love, in happiness, in karmic releif. I'm helpless and pefectly lined up for the sheath. I can't be saved and I won't help myself, I've accepted that faith, has put me up on the shelf. Collector of dust, maybe a few novelty pennies of rust. Stories, tales, Oh the adventures of my time, are left with me to vicariously influence your mind. I never asked to be Lady of the Attic. Keeper of the eminance grise, unforgiven member of this underground realm. Where reality consists of the absurd unknown not even your parents were courteously shown. Another day in the life, never will you enjoy, as your mind was conditioned to be played like a toy. I am sad, unsatisfied, fed up with this life. Be a lady, make a baby, shine on as his wife. It bugs me how this all rhymes, cause my life never works along any doted lines. Contracts of life, you're never supposed to make, but once you're in, never should you break. I've found myself in some emotional rut; where ashes of gray await the discarded butt.