Simple lyrics seep from fuzzed over speakers
Crackled and used
But not in any way tainted
Like wax paper creases
This is the way my words form tonight
I can see my muse’s bright eyes leering
Jeering,
From behind an indiscernible shadow
She laughs because I can’t reach her
Though with every fiber of my poet
I try to grasp her through
Bottles and words
She will not curl and purr in my lap
She will only jump on my back
And scratch
When I have no paper
No pen
When my mind is already
Scratched up
From cold weather, bad breath,
And too many mistakes
If only I could
Just once see her
Blindly
Her gypsy Greek
Magic could make me
Marvelous
But she will never allow it
I am more or less left
To translate cryptic
Symbols from my
Cemetery of thoughts
“It is not my fault
Your are so dependent
On me”
She speaks so brightly
At times likes these
I could strangle her
But I know I would only
Be choking on my own words
...whytt*06
© 2006 whyttb
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/1231/88542 on Tuesday December 02nd, 2008 04:19 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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