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Pin-Up Art of My Life

Contributed by kidnic on Wednesday, 8th March 2006 @ 11:19:59 AM in AEST
Topic: anguished

In the past month,
What have I stolen?
You ask so succinctly,
And as I answer so eloquently,
Yet infinitely humbly,
A dozen random hearts
Each so rapturously golden.
To stand in the garden where such ripe fruit grown,
And to sway to music flowing from heavens blown,
Stands me transfixed, among such tempting proposals,
With millions of decisions left at my very disposal.
And swaying to beats,
Coming from twenties-esque,
Each beat driving,
With each breath living,
And all self dying,
All flowing forward
From a radio on my desk.
I spin and do a little song and dance, to satisfy,
I hope you all are happy; I cease to even try.
Why give more when nothing ever comes back?
Who owes the debt when all have lost track?
And who am I?
Where have I gone?
With all the things I've done,
And nothing new under the sun,
Nor anything ever truly won,
Wandering through stills
I look out on an entire life forgone.

Copyright © kidnic ... [ 2006-03-08 11:19:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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