Romeo+Juleit-The Tragedy

The quiet loving of her finesse touch

and the look in her eyes,

says she can’t get enough.

Her porcelain face

is perfection to the T;

still pictures of grace.

(I’d buy them up if I could)

Remember those nights we’d spend

haunting that dive bar,

intelligently drunken conversations

of life and love.

But don’t you know

I’d trade them all away

just to know what was behind

that sad smile.

If I were king,

would you be my queen?

‘Cause I’d give up forever

just to see your smile

…for one more second.

And I’d search forever

just to find the ground

deserving of your feet.

(Cause you know)

We can fly away,

plead like angels

and speak in silver tongue sonnets.

So take my hand

and say you’ll be mine.

Carpe Diem

I know this is shit but sometimes shit is better than nothing at all...or is it the other way around?

Why can’t you see I’m the one you want?

You chase all these pretty boys

Politicians with empty promises

Cause friends aren’t lovers.

But if you could see the look in my eyes;

you'd think differently.

I'm just the shoulder to cry on

when they break your heart,

but I guess that’s the roll I chose to play.

And all these cold nights

I lay in my empty bed,

I dream of your smile

and every night I ask the stars to change my roll.

But maybe if I broke your heart

you'd like me more,

‘cause that seems to be the latest trend.

I'm sorry I have a heart

I'm sorry you're not a whore

but one day,

(a day too late)

you'll wake up in the middle of the night

(just like the rest)

and you'll realize,

you lost the one thing you always wanted.

So for now, even if it’s just for the night

know I'm willing and waiting,

dreaming of your smile and waiting

for your call;

waiting for the day you wake up and realize…

(how much you love me)

Tell cupid to aim steady and true

cause after this…

(I can't take much more)

after enough nights I'll be through;

move one to someone new,

…Someone that isn't you.

I've been going through some writers block.  I have a few pieces that I'm working on but I can't seem to finish either of them the way I want to.  I suppose it's a matter of patients and letting the words fall into place as they should.  Words have a life of their own.  They live, they breath; we exist in a symbiotic relationship; a courtship of mixed drinks and mixed emotions, dancing to the existential beat of existence.  A true artist wears his heart on his sleeve and keeps his ear to the ground.