Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Pretty Eyes

Oh... em pretty eyes,
First glimpse caught at the station,
Silently they beckoned tendrils of a plea,
"Come to me", they beseeched,
"Take me away from this lonesome world"...
"Be the love I seek"...
But fear clasped my feet,
Chained my tongue,
And just like it never was,
The moment ceased to exist.
In regret I look back and long,
And in my head the question rages forever on,
Will I ever see those pretty eyes again!?

They are yours...

These words aren't mine, they are yours...
I am just a mere medium,
The emotions are there for as long as you let 'em
And are as real as your heart permits 'em,
Anything I feel now, you put in me,
Every phrase is lifted off your thoughts and into my chest,
Every letter just a reflection of the mood in your mirror.

These stories aren't mine, they are yours...
A pauper such as I, has nothing of such value to give,
So I steal from the secret diaries you keep hidden in the dark,
Plagiarising those works you want not the world to see,
The lies, truths, innuendo you'd rather they not hear,
Eavesdropping while you bared to the imaginary priest in your bedroom,  
Every snapshot of laughter and tears taken from you unaware.

That's how you know (you are in love)...

Even right there at the throes,
On the verge,
At the tail end of a long, hard story,
Clinging to the sheets of your bed with 'death' lurking overhead,
There is still sunny symphony humming to your soul
And an eternal smile plastered on that old, grayed face
'cause there is someone smiling back at you,
The one that never goes,
The same one that is never far; present or not
A permanent fixture on the ceiling boards and the walls
That's how you know you are in love...