No leaves have grown here:
This chilly spring reminds me
It all turns to black
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
No leaves have grown here:
This chilly spring reminds me
It all turns to black
Don’t need no booze
Don’t need no weed
Don’t need no ecstasy
This ain’t no “high on life”
This just me
I’ve been wrong about a lot, but one big thing is that this can’t be fixed. It can be fixed! It can be fixed! It can be fixed! There’s one way. Just one.
The quieter I become
The further I withdraw
Fading from my own view
…
Simmering envy
Seeing others bravery
Fearfully, I live
Whispering engine
Doubts creeping, should not be here
Among melting snow
Apx. 7:15 – 7:30 p.m.
A quarter century of shadows
Coating the brain
Decades of void
Staining the heart
I’m casting these dice
Hoping for another night at the table
Either I go bust, fade into nothing
Or I find my fortune and live on
…
The end feels already written
But is it merely ink on paper, or etched in stone?
Delicate, easily torn
Many anxious evenings
I want to burn every word I’ve written
…
Over a great bonfire of massive flames
Reaching for the atmosphere
Dreaming of visiting the stars
…