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Playground Brawl
I'm forced to turn to your disdain
When I can't keep a beat.
It tries me so
A bitter foe
But I am yet as sweet.
I'm forced to bow my head in shame
When I can't reach your wants.
It kills the joy
Your grim employ
But I will yet triumph.
I'm forced to hide the smile inside
When ice beneath you breaks.
With eyes alight
At your hard plight
Sly smirks are mine to take.
I'm forced to show my kinder side
When all I do is seeth.
My loathing mixed
With your hard tricks
Makes "nice" harder to breathe.
You're forced to turn to my refrain
When your life meets the streets
Progress is slow
Luck deals hard blows
White snow is once more sleet.
You're forced to bow low to my fame
Your loss is now my fun
In my employ
The word "ahoy!"
Is not allowed to run.
You're forced to hide the pain inside
Guilt is now mine to make.
I've made this right
I've had my fight
No more I need to fake.
You're forced to show a compromise
Though I'm sure it's easy
This war is fixed
The fight was nixed
.............
Who else will spar with me?
The Latest Contradiction
She keeps on with her running
But she's not running closer
Nor is she any farther away.
Nothing is holding
And nothing is hiding
But still she is shackled yet she cannot stay.
She looks at us with a smile
And in time all the while
Her insides are churning in depression's crusade.
There's a frown on her face
But she's secretly pleased
And she'll wrap arms around you in sordid embrace.
The music is dancing
And so is her feet
Yet she is statuesque all the while.
She's still as can be
She's quiet endlessly
And yet with a shake she is twirling a mile.
She reads but she's blind
With her all-seeing eyes
Which can pull you away, but you're by her still
She's as mute as a monk
With her well-spoken oaths
She'll try to be there, but she never will.
Statuesque
Days go by
Still her eyes are unmoving.
Her face like stone
Etched forever in the throes of a dream.
She waits
She weeps
She hopes for a chance.
Rain falls
Still she stands undaunted.
Tears fall down endlessly.
Tears of the sky
Melded with the pain that falls from her eyes.
She stands,
She keeps
Vigils without sleep,
Hoping to gain the freedom to fly.
But still she stands
The roots too tight
Torn from above
Imprisioned below
All she wanted was to be in her own.
But now her identity is overgrown
With weeds, thorns, and ivy
And wild roses.
This one girl would not rise above the storm.
Days go by
Still her eyes are unmoving.
Her face like stone
Etched forever in the throes of a dream.
She waits
Nothing but a living memory.
 Ballad of the Mute · Wed Oct 21, 2009 @ 04:35am · 1 Comments |
