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Being you...
You know I Find it hard to come out with a single word.
My feelings have become far too diverse,
too many directions I want to Divert,
So Many Lyrics and Lines to Converse.
My mere paperweight of burdens and guilt,
have dried up upon the page it once spilt.
No More talk of the rose to wilt,
I'm finding it hard to Divide it still.
Analyzing every word that I have wrote,
every blank feeling, every little note.
Losing the inspiration that drove me Insane,
But I wonder where can I pick it up again?
No more poems, no music, not one little rhyme,
Just because my feelings wouldn't stay all inside.
I guess its part of moving with Time,
too busy to make room for one little line.
My room still reminds me of those filthy fingers,
the ones that touched me, the touch that lingers.
Nothing could ever clean my vile skin,
but i'm not the one who should live with the sin.
The arguments echo through the halls of my mind,
"I wont get involved" I'd say "I'll sit out this time"
Just bury my thoughts in paper with rhyme,
because somehow this family doesn't seem to be mine.
My Wastful Talent hits no provoke,
Critisizing yourself receeds no revoke.
Though I wish my lyrics would actully flow,
rather then lines that dont actually go.
They don't make sense, they just tie up somehow,
but they just seem to do, "it'll have to do for now."
I'll find a faster pace because im getting too slow,
it reflects my life as if it has nowhere to go,
for inspiration, my investigation
to look for something to give me some...
to look for some one to show me some...
because I hate writing lyrics, they just never seem done.
I cant stop now, I'm still pretty young.
There's alot more lyrics to be wrote and sung.
Alot more to learn, to teach, preach and say,
because you never know when it'll be The Last Yesterday.
If theres too much to say, then it wont get through,
but there are alot more unluckier things then it is being you...
