We Who Partake Too Much

I want to be more
than what’s been
allowed me.
I wanted so much
but confused myself.
The jewels were real
but I kept misplacing them,
even though they were where
I’d left them.

It wasn’t so much that
life didn’t offer its
better things.
It was that I didn’t believe it.

When the “talent” was “recognized”.
When the “gifts” gained sprout.
When the fear first raised its head.
When I found the “block-it-outs”

As the timbre found expression,
As the soul grew so profound.
As the demons started gathering,
As the heels clipped by HELL’S HOUNDS.

I am tired of trekking this “glass house”
there’s no reason for false goals.
For the solids, liquids or gases
are what keeps us from growing old.

This is for Her that couldn’t get to gain that vintage… Rest In PEACE [Amy Jade].

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Published in: on July 24, 2011 at 8:39 pm  Leave a Comment  
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