Ideas of Ideas, di T.R.

T.R.

Ideas of Ideas

I lie on my bed

A pen in my hand

My brain does not stand

I cant use my hand

I don’t understand

Don’t know what to write

I look at the wall

See signs of a brawl

I think that i might

Not write it at all

I look at the floor

Ideas don’t flow

Frustration to grow

I look at the door

Maybe i should go

I walk through the park

Sit under a tree

Idea maybe

I play with the bark

Still nothing to see

Return to my home

Sit down on a chair

I look everywhere

Ideas alone

I cant find them there

I talk to a friend

Announce lack of thought

I hear what they’ve got

It comes to an end

I have what I’ve sought

So I go right back

Write on papers rough

It was not so tough

Ideas of lack

Ideas enough

Altre opere di T.R....

Dearly Beloved

Dearly Beloved, The sand is not hot, The water, not wet. A beach, it is not. The battles lie fought

Stay to waste me. I waste you.

Perhaps it’s best to go other ways… You don’t feel as I do, Juat me, All of you, You all, me alone. And even with you all

Dear Nobody

I write to you for I am alone And you are my last resort My time I wrote on a stone Of the moldy and broken sort I lost the hammer I used

Upon These Black Beaches

I stare at the sand upon these bla… I sit on their crippled and bent a… Think still on the words that thei… And sit in the dark as a common wa… The day is not bright, so it seems…

7th Of The Month

I walked in as I did every 7th of… And as I caught up on the situati… I noticed a fly go into the room. The fly landed on the wall Where the stains of the previous a…

More Than I Should

I’m having a feeling But don’t understand I look at the ceiling And I cannot stand She used to be torture

And Will She Ever

If she were to understand Then she would not accept me So I am glad But also so sad She knows when she sees the scar

Less Yielding Than Stone

We’ve lost ones before And in future lose. But now what we store, Bring in through this door Is ours now to choose.

A Room. A Girl. A Mirror.

It was a dark room, but she was br… There was only nothing in this roo… I could see her eyes. I could se… All her radiance felt warm. Soot… I craved her warmth. I walked to…

The day of Question

Question told me as she spoke Answer now for Question’s sake She knew that she would provoke Messy questions Question made Question rode her Answer horse

Strings

There once was a man Who played sweet as honey And when he played songs He played for no money He had won it all

With The Roaches I Share

With the Roaches I share An inanimate Stare And a messed up appearance That I cannot bear A Thought without clearance

Thunderspark

I felt it that day And not hard to say I could never see But felt right away I felt it a bit

Worthless

Worthless be the starlight That’s never seen at night And worthless be an hourglass If we lose track of time. Worthless be the speaker

Mr. Metal

My head was of metal My heart was of straw My bones were of twigs For those who did not know They scarred each one

T.R.

Ideas of Ideas

Condividere

Altre opere di T.R....