this way a poem i wrote about a few mosts ago.
a new way to play
the game of
love,what can i
say? this is
how the game
is played.a chance
on romance could
lead to deppression
and possibly
aggression.kiss
and tell some of
us will fail and
live to tell
the tail.why
are we doing this?
some of us will be kissed
by our macth that
stichs out like a
pacth;what`s the
cacth?even though it may
seem like fun,
is it a pun?are they
trying to make money
which equals honey
what is this?!
i quit!no it`s
to late!we`ll
have to accept
our fate.now that we`re
trapped we feel
like crap.they`ll
pay for what
they`ve done.all
those son of a
guns.when the time
comes,they wouldent
dare 2 care,why
should they?when the`re
getting payed.we
lost and this is
the cost,the way the
love game was made,
we all got played.
a new way to play
the game of
love,what can i
say? this is
how the game
is played.a chance
on romance could
lead to deppression
and possibly
aggression.kiss
and tell some of
us will fail and
live to tell
the tail.why
are we doing this?
some of us will be kissed
by our macth that
stichs out like a
pacth;what`s the
cacth?even though it may
seem like fun,
is it a pun?are they
trying to make money
which equals honey
what is this?!
i quit!no it`s
to late!we`ll
have to accept
our fate.now that we`re
trapped we feel
like crap.they`ll
pay for what
they`ve done.all
those son of a
guns.when the time
comes,they wouldent
dare 2 care,why
should they?when the`re
getting payed.we
lost and this is
the cost,the way the
love game was made,
we all got played.
Time is just a thing.
You can't ever have to little.
You can always have enough.
But when you look at it,
our lives are just a piece.
A piece of what time has to give.
So why not live the fullest,
to what we can.
Why waste it wishing,
on something you'll never have.
Let time do its own thing,
so we can do ours.
You see time is mysterious.
It controls our lives.
And in one quick second,
our time may be up.
So take what you're given,
and give nothing back.
With time nothing is ever what it seems.
You can't ever have to little.
You can always have enough.
But when you look at it,
our lives are just a piece.
A piece of what time has to give.
So why not live the fullest,
to what we can.
Why waste it wishing,
on something you'll never have.
Let time do its own thing,
so we can do ours.
You see time is mysterious.
It controls our lives.
And in one quick second,
our time may be up.
So take what you're given,
and give nothing back.
With time nothing is ever what it seems.
Photograph by Ansel Adams
I'm just drifting, drifting down this road.
The dust kicking up behind me,
Just a cloud to hide my past.
My feet don't leave any footprints,
My name never graces those lips
That I'm watching from a distance,
A distance that grows greater
As I'm drifting, drifting down this road.
I'm not on the way to anything great,
I'm just hiding, hiding down in the dark.
The shadows closing in around me,
Just a blanket to smother my past.
My eyes can't see in the gloom,
My voice never breaks the silence
That I keep deep in my heart,
A heart that grows blacker
As I'm drifting, drifting in the dark.
