When all your love turns to blame,
The game doesn’t seem as much fun.
The lines in your mask, much to
Grotesque, like a winter far too long.
Love was once kind, now cruel.
I wanted the dream to come true,
Waited upon time to make me strong;
Now lost in the dead sea of ether.
The song plays over and over again,
The only joke is no one is listening.
Keep me from feeling so dumb. I wanted
To be smart. I wanted in the game.
Now from the outside looking in,
I see a twisted frame, all fame, but
The flame has been blown out.
What a wreck, shore lines weather,
But this pain wouldn’t care.
My hair on fire, my crotch cold.
A cigarette burning in the night,
My back to the wind, I face oblivion.
This next line is for you;
Be kind, like a wise old one of
The late 18th century. Rock and roll;
It’s just his ghost.
Banished forever; no rest. The waxed moon,
Calls your name a million nights our time
Has just begun.
Your blame looks like hate in a rage.
They have a mask for you too. This human
Mask looks like a real beauty, inside
It’s just a sack of shit.
- winter 2015