Your Poetry Dot Com - Blue-Eyed Alibi

Array ( [sid] => 146087 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Blue-Eyed Alibi [time] => 2008-11-03 16:21:57 [hometext] => [bodytext] => I was keeping up the pace
At a feverish rate
Pumping pens, grinding gears, shifting weight
Out all night howling at the moon

Grew old like a fairy tale
Told by the doomed
Turning rotten, eating cotton
It got stuck in my throat

Kept gloating and exposing
All my weakness to and fro

Then she came along
Tar in hand
It was sticky, and pathetic
And it grounded me down

All these triceratops dreams got me
Sticking by my feet
Like a sheet of fear is fitting on my boots
In a concrete, with a mood

Should you be here when I return
I’d hope that you would learn
You’re never as good as the things you’ve stood by
I’ve got a blue-eyed alibi

I’ve got watered down words I’m fitting in my head
Like a freezer to be iced
And I’m changing my mind more than Jesus Christ
It’s intolerable, so be kind

I’d hoped the feelings would not persist
For fake friends and lovers kept
Like pictures that consist of criticism
Towards my depth

I never tried to pass for smart
Just thought that art was art
And I’d never been concerned
With fitting in

Just in having a few friends
Not in the means to the ends
So if you want me to be proper
You best defend in what you pretend

Should you be here when I return
I’d hope that you would learn
You’re never as good as the things you’ve stood by
I’ve got a blue-eyed alibi

[comments] => 2 [counter] => 150 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Desideratum [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 13 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Blue-Eyed Alibi

Blue-Eyed Alibi
Date: Monday, 3rd November 2008 @ 04:21:57 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Desideratum

I was keeping up the pace
At a feverish rate
Pumping pens, grinding gears, shifting weight
Out all night howling at the moon

Grew old like a fairy tale
Told by the doomed
Turning rotten, eating cotton
It got stuck in my throat

Kept gloating and exposing
All my weakness to and fro

Then she came along
Tar in hand
It was sticky, and pathetic
And it grounded me down

All these triceratops dreams got me
Sticking by my feet
Like a sheet of fear is fitting on my boots
In a concrete, with a mood

Should you be here when I return
I’d hope that you would learn
You’re never as good as the things you’ve stood by
I’ve got a blue-eyed alibi

I’ve got watered down words I’m fitting in my head
Like a freezer to be iced
And I’m changing my mind more than Jesus Christ
It’s intolerable, so be kind

I’d hoped the feelings would not persist
For fake friends and lovers kept
Like pictures that consist of criticism
Towards my depth

I never tried to pass for smart
Just thought that art was art
And I’d never been concerned
With fitting in

Just in having a few friends
Not in the means to the ends
So if you want me to be proper
You best defend in what you pretend

Should you be here when I return
I’d hope that you would learn
You’re never as good as the things you’ve stood by
I’ve got a blue-eyed alibi

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Desideratum

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