This one I wrote for a number of reasons. On the surface it's a reflection of my oh so horrible love life. However it's more than that...so much more. I really like this girl right? So this poem was my way of laying my cards on the table.
Mend my broken heart with your soft kisses and silver duct tape
Mend my heart with the kind of kind kindness that only love makes
My attraction to you is more fatal than Glenn Close or Michael Douglas
So I’ll walk around love loveless in need of a hug miss till the day you plug this
Black hole that’s hidden in my chest, fitted in my breath, get it in your blessed breast
I’m breathless and impressed, at the same time, obsessed and oppressed, I’ll confess
Last night, I found my self sleep walking to your place ‘cause I was chasing my dreams
A mistake and it seems I’ll take in the scenes but I’ll greatly mislead
‘Cause I never could relate to actors and the world’s on my shoulders like Atlas
And if love was a skill, then I’ll need practice to gain a method to my madness
In fact, that’s what I told my shrink but it ain’t like that, it’s actually just George
My imaginary friend that tends to keep me company whenever I’m bored
But anyways, I’ll discuss fidelities with dudes that worship Cusack
And it’s true that my heart beat quickens when you’re around like boom bap
This doomed sap, plays the role of the travelling salesman who’s endorsin’
Endorphins to orphans and morphin’ their torment, informin’ my foreman
Of my sales while greedily filling my pockets with nothing but handfuls of love
The kind she’d toss in a landfill or dump, honey, aren’t I handsome enough?
If my love was a train, than these veins would play the role of my life’s railroad
And if we never hold hands than this train will derail so I’ll sail cold with failed souls
On the River of Styx and stones on mountains of broken bones past broken homes
I felt unwanted like a loaf of bread’s end pieces, so I wrote these poems
I want to spread my love for you around the world like jam or a bad rumour
But when I look in the mirror all I see is god’s sick sense of humour
Lying in his creation of this love poet who can never find romance
So I’ll write poems of how we’ll hold hands and slow dance in cold lands
And it’s so grand but I realize I miss you; I miss you like the dead miss breath
Or the living miss rest or Clinton miss breast or George Bush Jr. miss death
Or the dead miss breath and so the cycle continues as we come full circle
Love IS a battlefield and I’ve been wounded, turning my red heart to purple
But I like my method of attack like I like my brand of prophylactics
Roll up in wooden horses like a Trojan when I show my tactics
But my element of surprise is useless like stopping a sinking ship
With a band aid or sneezing with your eyes open, still I’ll try to sync our lips
Embraced in a long slow kiss, hot enough to make a kettle on a stove hiss
So this? This is dedicated to the soulless attempting to find solace
Your eyes are like the sunrise and your smile the sunset, while I’m like the moon
Overshadowed like a back up singer vocalizing his last tune
I can’t play the field; I’m a benchwarmer begging to be let out the sport please
My momma always did warn me about wearing my heart on short sleeves
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Mend my heart with the kind of kind kindness that only love makes
My attraction to you is more fatal than Glenn Close or Michael Douglas
So I’ll walk around love loveless in need of a hug miss till the day you plug this
Black hole that’s hidden in my chest, fitted in my breath, get it in your blessed breast
I’m breathless and impressed, at the same time, obsessed and oppressed, I’ll confess
Last night, I found my self sleep walking to your place ‘cause I was chasing my dreams
A mistake and it seems I’ll take in the scenes but I’ll greatly mislead
‘Cause I never could relate to actors and the world’s on my shoulders like Atlas
And if love was a skill, then I’ll need practice to gain a method to my madness
In fact, that’s what I told my shrink but it ain’t like that, it’s actually just George
My imaginary friend that tends to keep me company whenever I’m bored
But anyways, I’ll discuss fidelities with dudes that worship Cusack
And it’s true that my heart beat quickens when you’re around like boom bap
This doomed sap, plays the role of the travelling salesman who’s endorsin’
Endorphins to orphans and morphin’ their torment, informin’ my foreman
Of my sales while greedily filling my pockets with nothing but handfuls of love
The kind she’d toss in a landfill or dump, honey, aren’t I handsome enough?
If my love was a train, than these veins would play the role of my life’s railroad
And if we never hold hands than this train will derail so I’ll sail cold with failed souls
On the River of Styx and stones on mountains of broken bones past broken homes
I felt unwanted like a loaf of bread’s end pieces, so I wrote these poems
I want to spread my love for you around the world like jam or a bad rumour
But when I look in the mirror all I see is god’s sick sense of humour
Lying in his creation of this love poet who can never find romance
So I’ll write poems of how we’ll hold hands and slow dance in cold lands
And it’s so grand but I realize I miss you; I miss you like the dead miss breath
Or the living miss rest or Clinton miss breast or George Bush Jr. miss death
Or the dead miss breath and so the cycle continues as we come full circle
Love IS a battlefield and I’ve been wounded, turning my red heart to purple
But I like my method of attack like I like my brand of prophylactics
Roll up in wooden horses like a Trojan when I show my tactics
But my element of surprise is useless like stopping a sinking ship
With a band aid or sneezing with your eyes open, still I’ll try to sync our lips
Embraced in a long slow kiss, hot enough to make a kettle on a stove hiss
So this? This is dedicated to the soulless attempting to find solace
Your eyes are like the sunrise and your smile the sunset, while I’m like the moon
Overshadowed like a back up singer vocalizing his last tune
I can’t play the field; I’m a benchwarmer begging to be let out the sport please
My momma always did warn me about wearing my heart on short sleeves
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