Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Water on the Brain

Ages soared on the wind
until we ran out of gas of course
Was it only me
buried by those mistakes made?
Will you ever know
the gravity of those confessions?
Now my location feels like purgatory
A repentance of ignorance if you will
Maybe Hell is on the waves
and it baits us with a chance of atonement
I've painted the words on my chest
They just simply await the response,
though experience tells us,
childhood is only memories.
So lay beside me
to help refresh my mind of
every ounce of poison and candy.
Maybe that could provide
the freedom I so dearly seek.

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