I saw a man sitting on a couch
It made me think
I need a rest
I saw a couch sitting by a trash
It made me think
I need to clean
I saw a trash sitting by a house
It made me think
I am done playing cat and mouse
This man I saw sitting on a couch
Made me believe
What I am doing is right
What I have done is great
This couch I saw sitting by the trash
Made me realize
I may never be clean
I have made too many mistakes
This trash I saw sitting by a house
Made me forget
All the pain I’ve seen
All the times I never pulled through
So, as I sit on this couch
And think to myself
We all are tired
We all need to lay our heads down
Once in awhile
As I open the lid to the trash
I throw away all my regrets
I toss away all this old skin
Then looked up at the house
And turn to the mouse
Get up to leave
Smile at the stranger
By my side
Give him a kiss
And said, goodbye.
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The blue swell over the range
Still tepid in color
Wrought with languid threats
That the day would soon smother
Across the streets float the leaves so brittle by cold
Yet so fragile and brown, and so young to look old
How they dance like the random walk of the clouds
Only to melt into dirt and be spread all around,
or collect over something in a flimsy brown shroud
Or to be random and benighted and flimsily brown
The ragged colossus that looked down on the town
The great heap of rock that rose from red ground,
The soil also ragged that gave birth to the brown
Allowed the colossus to jut up all around
And like a brutal livid king, the colossus looked down.
To find fault, to hang guilt, that was so easily found
And the potent crab meat, he would usually eat
Tasted bitter under fire in the embarrassment and heat
Crouched in filth, the homeless tyrant eating fish in the street.
Care not of his clothes so recklessly worn
Ignore the clear fish grease that flows down his palm
Just try to examine his greedy black eyes
How scornful and lost does his face seem at first
Slippery like fish grease they role in their socket
All black and buttered like the smooth stones in his pocket
Till the colossus is seen doth his evil transpire
Then his thoughts eat his courage, he wants to forgive
But she won’t let him regress to this humility again
Or test his black soul for the goodness within
For she eats the sorrow, not the learning he gets
She eats the feelings of his pain and confusion
And tosses his sincere promises of change like picked-clean bones into the sea.
Failing to alight his pallid face are wrecked guns of savvy and motion
Falling into light her pale form is only whispering her image
I’ve forgotten anyway, the man on the couch
For he only sat there for the picture, and wished…
If only there was a reason to do something this serene and… dirty.
You are really behind in new posts! What does butterfly in reverse me, I am not as poetic as you :)
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