You were playing with my hair
And I got poked with a lizard pin
We spoke a little of Houdini
Then I swept the sighs under rug
You could not get out of the box
Layered and stuffed with ego
Performing tricks for the crowd
Never revealing what you've done
Is it fear of loss or something more
Afraid your intelligence will falter
That the shackles that bind you
Are the only thing that make you?
There's no truth in your keys and smoke
Miracles will be chased 'till the novelty is gone
Remember you suffocate if you move too slow
Another thing I swept under rug
...whytt*06
© 2006 whitney bash
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/1231/81031 on Tuesday December 02nd, 2008 04:06 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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