There's snow flying past my eyes
There's a wind blowing through my room
The sky is getting so dark
Hope it doesn't end anytime soon
I'm trying to find my voice
It's in that wind too
I'm trying to find my purpose
Not the primary one, the secondary one
Do I want someone to love
Or do I want to be one who can be loved
I think I have to do the second before the first
Wish I could lie and make it all sound good
But fuck it, this is what you get
I'm not deep, I'm not hip, I'm not your dreams
I'm just one motherfucker trying to get through the day
Just trying to keep my head up
Keep my leg off the third rail
Keep your head from going through a wall
Resisting all those urges that tell me what I know is wrong
I'm just one motherfucker, clear a path.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
you get what you get. Good. That's the only way to be. Sometimes you have to just say, " to hell with it" or "heck" which is what I would say, you know.
I remember one winter living at Governors Island and the wind would whip the water up on the fence and it would be thick with ice and it was cold and dark and miserable having to take that ferry at 6 AM wondering what the heck I was doing. Your poem reminded me of that rotten time. Thank God for spring!
Back to serious....
"Keep your head from going through a wall"
Jayus H. Christ. What's going ON over there?
ps: you're deep.
Post a Comment