Inimitable Pain and the Awaken Dream
By VocoKool
It is my strive that is my hurt, I have tried genius but genius has not yet tried me, I cry tears of black and gold, I believe in depth, and the will of the un-structured, It leaves a cut that never seems to heal, Searing, I feel an emptiness of nothing, I am dull and sick, Insomniac drunken coal faced bastard, Is this a sign? Is this reality? Awake now.... Pink faced and raring in the devils new satin shoes, Bliss filled crazed, dazed motions of honey, money smooth talk, Tango time with words, Tense ink songs of blue and blond, An erased dream, And the passion lives forever, For I die for work and my work dies for me, Collaboration, Dignified, I wimper no more, For "Reincarnated dead poet lives!" runs rapidly through my pumping viens like the this year's headline news article in the paper that no person has ever read. I need no muse. Written February 15th, 2002 © on Feb 15 2002 04:28 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"It is my strive that is my hurt,..."