Misc. 1
Once I prayed to get away
Now I pray to stay.
I need to be here,
4 feet on the ground,
or is it two?
Any more an animal,
dialects run through my head,
opening and closing,
there is someone here.
People downstairs in their world
I am upstairs in mine.
Gazing on the color,
I was once defiled
leaning back and reaching
for something I can't hold.
I am not together
made from a mold.
Misc. 2
Impression and depression,
sure signs of the times,
weaving in and weaving out,
leaving no trace in the crowd.
We are all conspiring here,
to do something or other,
it matter not anymore,
what we do on our earth.
Answers to our questions,
I'm around here all the time,
thoughts run through my head,
but chaos can not really rule.
Everything but my life,
and some of it gone for love,
what the hell did I do wrong,
to make the creature you see here?
Drums 'n flutes 'n lutes 'n more,
the sounds we hear do not appear,
I can not grasp what isn't mine,
you can go, I'll be fine.
Just some old stuff. I put it up to make myself feel better.