They Always Know
They always know, every raindrop that's ever fallen right outside my window/They let go and plummeted, fell for all their lives, and they stomached it, blowin' on the shingles protectin' the downstairs television/
Their miniscule views all attached and put together tether natural ethereal memories weatherin' weather/
Whether the feater waits, time won't collapse around the traps, wasted waistlines internally aware and deprivated/
No belt made knows the consistency of water so these memories remain released like ruined water colors/
They always know, precipitation be damned, beaurocracy of understanding knowing hand in hand/
Fingers interlaced, elemental matrimony, pretending superiority through age and wisdom gives them priority/
Assuredly we question the necessity of this, yet it's angels and demons screamin' that minimizes shit/
It ain't a trick, no not anymore at least/
Pleased with our present socially we all renew the lease/
Cease production reiterated through counseling, bounds and leaps blindly circled back but still they'll always know me/
But still they'll always know exactly where to start, where to puncture through the skin to leave a scar across the heart/
When to portray themselves as art, politically motivated excavated skeletal secrets abandoned and defeated/
Treated like a garden the ugly are always weeded 'till the seasons change and new crops are plotted and seeded/
But still we breath it, of course we'll always know still majorities will flock to common logic killing the soul/
That's why these raindrops profess through days cold, what they know, fallin' through their lives watchin' what they can' through your window/
Never alone, you'll always have that understanding, before your landing panoramic 360 degree view/
Then when you splatter evaporate lack of matter but what matters is retention of the truth,
They always know you
Poetry by Phill
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Written on 2011-05-17 at 23:06
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by Phill Latest textsSomething Less Than PoetryScar Tissue Musings #349 Musings #328 Musings #327 |
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