by Forest York
Faking a signal to form a rebellion,
touch can still settle the heart of a hellion but none more so than You.
Pages are turned, white paper is beaming
It's smokey inside the mind of a free man
the blur disguises the fact that its freezing, but there's nothing more one can do.
Anxious followers following writers
writing the words of passed away fighters
fighting for something to make them feel lighter
but lighters are those who had started the fires but nobody thinks that its true.
Admission ignites perspicacious vocality
signaling spacious insights to morality
blends thin particulars into totality
spotting the covered, concealed speciality
breaching the tight eyes to see true reality, but still only but a glimpse of You
Sprained wrist twisting to swivel a rocking chair-
Balding scalp scratched with the motion of brushing hair-
Tree trunk refasten to tree with the utmost care-
Cancerous heartache snuffed out without any wear-
Smoke retracing its tracks to the burning flare-
Filthy and clouded out eyes without any glare, but still nothing better than You.
Last updated October 04, 2011