Friday, August 5, 2011

December By The Lake

A cold evening of December
Is a day I fondly remember
With friends and a bonfire
Star studded sky to admire
When drink loosed tongues
We began to talk
Stories pored from our lungs
Some took a walk
While others sat around
Poked the fire in the ground
Told truths and lies
That filled the night
We were full of cheers
Unaware of the fears
That were yet to come
We were blissfully dumb
What a good times those were
Now only memories stir
I will always remember
The lake that December


It was an amazing night. The first time I drank Vodka :)

Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Man In The Street

A man walked up to me in the street
He said, Sir, would you care to listen for a beat?
I am a busy man, I said, get out of my way
But the old man stood his ground any way

He begged and pleaded me to listen
While the strand of my patience grew thin
I tried to push him away, but he wouldn't move
What the hell was he trying to prove?

Alright I will listen, but better speak fast
My patience with you will not forever last
Then he spoke the words that chilled my bones
He spoke them peppered with harsh tones

He finally moved away from my way
I had heard all he had to say
I bowed my head and started to pray
My bones still cold in the month of May

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Die A Little

I just want to die a little
Bite the bullet, taste the metal
Feel the warmth of fever dreams
Lose my mind in pleasing screams

I just want to feel a little
Joy so sweet, pain so bitter
Something to help me survive
Make me feel alive

I just want to love a little
Cherish loving something brittle
Knowing I'd lose it one day
But still, love it anyway

I just want to fight a little
A skirmish, war or maybe battle
Find me a name that is my own
Before I die a little, unknown

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

The Man Without Joy

> The man without joy is all alone
> In a dark corner of his home
> Feeling cold to the bone
> He is joyless and unknown
> The man without joy walks in fear
> Unsure footsteps no one can hear
> His smile has turned to a sneer
> Always distant, never near
> The man without joy thinks of this
> He thinks of things that he will miss
> The happiness, mirth and bliss
> The memory of a dark kiss
> The man without joy is no more
> Once he had doubts, now he is sure
> Only one thing in life that is pure
> Death is the friend he looked for