Potential is what it could be.
I've given all I can and you still want more.
You missed the part when my tear hit the floor.
Still the emphisis is on I.
I'll never think you've beat me.
Emphasis on I.
This all looks beautiful where I am standing.
Distinction is lacking in this misunderstandi
Crash landed, stranded and branded left handed.
I didn't plan this. Your molasses kiss. Man did.
Oh my God!.. I think I might be a Hypochondriac!
This is pretty interesting...
http://www.cow
I'm fully aware none of the below will make much sense to anyone...
Blame it on hallucigenics.
I like the way it sounds when I say it.
Genius.
Genius.
Genius.
Genius.
what we as society can't seem to grasp the concept of is that there isn't a right and a wrong. There are words I use and words You dont.
Hmm...
''No but...''
I settle for you all acknowledging that this word is 'Genius' And that we both know what it means.
Hmm...
la la la... But where's my medal.
Shrooms turn being human into an artform.
Ta da.
Am I denying myself sleep to prove a point?...
Hmm...
This is directed at the world incase there are any insecure folk reading who may take what I say personaly.
Don't miss the point here... I give you more credit than that.
The great ones are the ones that are in denail.
Tragic.
Isn't it?
Hmm...
Here's one to ponder.... It'll have you cracking up I'm sure...
It shouldn't be a revalation...
But it is.
Oh?
Are you happy with your miracle?
This one is purely lyrical. So read it all and think you're cool. Then wonder why you feel so small. Are you happy with your miracle?
I figured it out. I'm writing it now. I'm getting it out. so you can read it now.
Halleluja.
Heroin does this to you.
This time of recklessness, make not with logic. Don't waist time planning chaotic. Everything in it's right place. Thoughts arise. Now this picasso face. Try colours you like. Not what I might. The art of making a mix tape. This one moment before the rape. I'll apologise for the mess tomorrow. Just take a look at me now. I know. When the young die early. And the old wish they were free. Irresponsibili
''Writers block.''
This is an ode to the poem I never wrote. A shadow now coats as the black cloud floats. I had the answer I swear. A piece of writing better than any adivice. It's message was clear. It rings in the ear. The song of life but now it's blocked by fear. I wish I could show the light burn bright. I wish I could tell you it's going to be alright. But this is merely a tribute to ponder. Where be yonder?
Below is probably one of the worst pieces of writing I've produced but I love it because even if no one gets it. Thats the point.
The Point.
I'm a square ball of wool. Tangled like a fool. To the right of me she sits. And further right my stool. Flick the switch and I unwind. I tell her that she's blind. Give her a treasure to find. I know she won't mind.
We're all clowns here I say. She think's it's a game and decides to play. Gives her self on a plate. And lets me show her the way.
But we're all clowns here I tell her. Look to the right and see, it's an empty seat for me. But I chose left to see my self-hipocrocy
Still she insists that the game must persist, I explain that she missed the point I made exist. So I give up and pretend. Say I see life round the bend. To humor this friend.
But we're all clowns here. And now I've come to here. This song, poem or piece bollocks writing I hope she finds enlightning...
''Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right.''
You sat in the middle of myself and I.
You'll never know why you're as perfect as Pi.
But now you must know that Pi is a lie.
We're all clowns here, you and I. The best you can do is laugh or cry. I'm no saint, you're no sinner, we all paint our friends and pretend we're the winner.
Now I know this wont make sense to many, but it applies to you and any.
We're all clowns here. We live in fear. We play life by ear. We learn from a peer. But he's just another clown here.
So when you find the one that makes you think lifes begun, remember this simple sum...
Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right.
Gone to try my luck at having a social life at 7pm on a sunday evening.
Stranger things have happened.