for Charlz after some troubles at work got me thinking
So here we are again,
And you're in the third of the mgg's.
I'm wondering how much it would hurt you,
But I could run so easily
And just let fly.
Everything just fell, like a slow motion spill,
A snap of the fingers and bam
Those words just fell out of your mouth,
When the cracks were already widening.
I guess you know how high your pedestal is now,
Seeing as several announced candidly.
What did I get?
A couple of no-shows and
A bowl of communal punch
Strewn on my back lawn.
Your bling just blinded me,
So that's what she splurged on.
And what was mine? Peanuts?
This elephant is surrounded by mice.
And I know what awaits me
When I return to the humble abode
Loneliness, and Mylo's call,
Paling in comparison to
The welcome that will
envelop your soul.
I'm in 'jellow',
And I'm thinking I'll renege on my offer.
I might just pass through,
Shoot shapes in the door,
So I bid you adieu,
Sweet Bellamy, my dear,
For you don't need me standing by,
You don't need me here.
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 652 times
Written on 2006-08-13 at 04:36
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Foghorn of Doubt
"Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds."- Franklin D. RooseveltSo here we are again,
And you're in the third of the mgg's.
I'm wondering how much it would hurt you,
But I could run so easily
And just let fly.
Everything just fell, like a slow motion spill,
A snap of the fingers and bam
Those words just fell out of your mouth,
When the cracks were already widening.
I guess you know how high your pedestal is now,
Seeing as several announced candidly.
What did I get?
A couple of no-shows and
A bowl of communal punch
Strewn on my back lawn.
Your bling just blinded me,
So that's what she splurged on.
And what was mine? Peanuts?
This elephant is surrounded by mice.
And I know what awaits me
When I return to the humble abode
Loneliness, and Mylo's call,
Paling in comparison to
The welcome that will
envelop your soul.
I'm in 'jellow',
And I'm thinking I'll renege on my offer.
I might just pass through,
Shoot shapes in the door,
So I bid you adieu,
Sweet Bellamy, my dear,
For you don't need me standing by,
You don't need me here.
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 652 times
Written on 2006-08-13 at 04:36
Tags Friends 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
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keith nunes |
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