"A War Of Words?"
I sat down here to write the thoughts
That rush around inside my head.
Bouncing off the walls and falling over one another,
As they race along my hand
In their impatience to be read.
Jostling one another,
They fight like cat and dog
To get beyond the twilight of my first inspiration,
Like a war within the fog
That is my mind.
Chaotic in the madness of a raging mountain stream,
They sting my eyes with passion
As they tear at all my dreams.
Without a thought of how I feel,
I blindly let the paper show
The inner workings of my heart
For all the world to know.
I guess they read it(well some do!)
And wonder if I'm quite insane.
I pour my secrets out,
To set like stone forever,
Complete with pleasures
And with pains.
I wonder why they read it.
I wonder why I write.
What kind of fool would bare his soul
For all to see?
The love and folly that is me,
Is yours to play with as you will,
Out in the cold clear light...
For all your kind condolence,
For all the love you gave,
And for your indulgence,
.
.
I'm your slave.
PB 17th May 2002
I sat down here to write the thoughts
That rush around inside my head.
Bouncing off the walls and falling over one another,
As they race along my hand
In their impatience to be read.
Jostling one another,
They fight like cat and dog
To get beyond the twilight of my first inspiration,
Like a war within the fog
That is my mind.
Chaotic in the madness of a raging mountain stream,
They sting my eyes with passion
As they tear at all my dreams.
Without a thought of how I feel,
I blindly let the paper show
The inner workings of my heart
For all the world to know.
I guess they read it(well some do!)
And wonder if I'm quite insane.
I pour my secrets out,
To set like stone forever,
Complete with pleasures
And with pains.
I wonder why they read it.
I wonder why I write.
What kind of fool would bare his soul
For all to see?
The love and folly that is me,
Is yours to play with as you will,
Out in the cold clear light...
For all your kind condolence,
For all the love you gave,
And for your indulgence,
.
.
I'm your slave.
PB 17th May 2002
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© PETE BRAVEN |
