No ratings.
The End of A Poet |
"Curtain Call: New Year's" Late night's I stare at the portraits you paint, Seize the most intense feelings to create, Getting sick of it who knew, chasing this illusion drew, So here's a rose, here's a dose of my reality, Beautifully in a peaceful mind, that's a curse in every line, Tears me apart inside, Invoke my Peers to listen, Yet they have no time as mine was well spent, Curtain call the last call for tomorrow a new day, Sorry to the friends I made, clutching this into fifth gear reflecting on the year, While in the back seat staring at the rearview to think clearly, Here's a rose for I put on the Final Show, Late night's I stare at the portraits you paint, Tears me apart knowing the love-hate for the poetry you make, Inhibit restrains self-conscious debates, Why does it seem like I'm so close to this, Yet a foot away, Do you notice or am I blind to this illusion? I haven't the slightest clue if you're listening through, Farewell was the beginning of something new, Dear friends, I leave you this final clue, Remember this save that, The beginning of chapter twenty-two, Growing sick of it don't wanna make you sad, Who knew I'll be leaving you this final rose, For the life you and I once had, Just hold this final rose; Curtain call soar absent Unrecognized expertise Ability prime Applauses salute inspire too Absolutely profound tune. 12/31/17 |