Gone After The Song....

Mystique420Mystique420 Posts: 338
edited April 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Where have all your lovers gone,
after you write the song?
I didn’t want to be
Just another song you sing.
I thought I’d be the one...
I thought I’d be the one
Who stayed for you,
wWhen the song was done.
The others were the path
Leading here to us.
And now, here we are,
At a place we didn’t want to be.
Too many ghosts have haunted me,
All I wanted was one sweet dream.
All you wanted was the dream
Of who you thought was me.
There’s no denying loving you
And living in our song,
But you knew I was leaving
Before I was gone....
Why can we write and sing
So well of love,
But as lovers,
Can’t live the life we write of?
Why do we choose the elusive
when we want something solid to grasp?
Why do we despair
At the pain in our heart
And the gasping breath
Of a dying romance?
We yearned for the desire
Of a desperate delusion,
The sweet surrender that, in turn,
Brings bittersweet sorrow.
We ached for the heartache
Of a familiar tune,
A door softly closing,
Someone leaves the room....
"To live,.... love,..... there's a song to be sung,....
'cause we may not be the Young Ones,..."

--first u sow the seed-- nature grows the seed-- then we eat the seed-- ;) nah,... we smoke it!
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • catefrancescatefrances Posts: 29,003
    nice mystique.

    the sentiment expressed is one i can relate to. it's so much easier to live 'imaginary' lives through our writing than it is to actually live the life we want. or eevn say what it is we want to say.
    it's as if writing gives us permission we deny ourselves.
    hear my name
    take a good look
    this could be the day
    hold my hand
    lie beside me
    i just need to say
  • Mystique420Mystique420 Posts: 338
    nice mystique.

    the sentiment expressed is one i can relate to. it's so much easier to live 'imaginary' lives through our writing than it is to actually live the life we want. or eevn say what it is we want to say.
    it's as if writing gives us permission we deny ourselves.

    it's all that much more tragic when the other one is afraid and runs away,... i guess i was writing parts of this as someone else,.. i look at it & part of it is me,.. i relate,.. the rest is what i resent,... i don't hold back what i feel ever anymore--although some would tell you I've always been a strong willed woman who will speak up n out--life is too short and i've been burned many times by the loss of loved ones whom i had been in an arguement with or just distanced,... what i'd give for just one second even,... a glance,.... a hug,.. a kiss... THE CHANCE TO SAY I LOVE U,...
    "To live,.... love,..... there's a song to be sung,....
    'cause we may not be the Young Ones,..."

    --first u sow the seed-- nature grows the seed-- then we eat the seed-- ;) nah,... we smoke it!
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