PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I keep your memory in the top room all alone,
Under lock and key and the door was made of stone, thick stone,
But i still hear you screaming from time to time.
Which stops the dream of pretending that you were ever there,
Hope that memory never grows some hair,
Oh and then lets it down.

I wanna be the one who says, "I`ve got you!",
Spins you `round on a big white horse
into the world`s last sun,
Oh but you`re so far gone.
And when you`re down and we`re galloping `round,
This 'like' becomes a 'love', and it`s over now.
Well i`d bottle the fire of the sun,
Oh but you`re so far gone to even care.

And now, you`re always there but your life becomes unknown,
And i`ll be there when your soul it comes un-sown, un-done,
And the contents spill onto empty streets.
But there was nothing there of much worth,
as i kicked through your memories like leaves that had fell to the earth,
because you`re so far gone.