a peek into the past

the feeling of anxiety has faded somewhat, but i find myself unable to sleep. whilst attempting to compose a poem/lyrics, i decided to go through some old stuff.

the guitarist

hey mr guitarist, there’s something about you
the way your fingers slide, so gently across her
working your magic, the soft music you conjure
you’ve got me caught in a spell, a trapped creature

you stand up there in the light, for all to behold
there’s something mysterious bout the way you move
your eyes, they say, you hide behind your jaded mask
but you speak through your fingers as I hear your past

my heart beats to the rhythm of your sad love song
i want to hold you, and tell you everything
release you from your pain and all your suffering
I want to let you bind me with your acoustic strings.

Simple Reality

feed me with a spoonful of imagination
to wash down the dryness of reality
listen, for i give you now a piece of me
served on a plastic plate to take away

step on the train, down to materialist city
where perfect is on sale and people are made
glass is the new grass, and beliefs fade
as you slip away from creative instinct

i need a ticket, one-way trip back to me
departing at three years ago today
i'm tired, i'm dry, i'm bleeding grey.

it's been awhile since i've tried to write anything...