I'm at this place again where there’s nowhere left to climb
At the height of the ladder with no mountain top in sight
Shoulders weak from the strain, carrying the weight
Of the hopes that I brought
to this impossible place
The weight of younger years, considered a golden child
Who always heard “you must do…”
yet was never showed how
Lord forgive my blindness, I lost my way
Not seeing the path laid or walking rightly
For not knowing the right way, lost in the haze
Of the smoldering remains of what I'm s'possed to be
This life in dark territory blew me away
The anger, the sorrow; the weapons of shame
In spite the rage hear the hopeful song
Singing sweet melodies about your
Promise to make me like Joseph was
Slave becomes Prince where the desert wind blows
One talent you gave me; imagination
Invested into seven gifts, let me name some
the draw, the write, the song, the play
the fight like Bruce lee when Chuck came his way
see spirits in the shadows, insanity
plus
patience is a gift, though worn and thin,
been waiting on a breakthrough since half past ten
thirty damned years to let the sun shine in
and a river of bloody tears on dark brown skin
a bitter black cherry soul, soaked in gin
Soft light in my eyes, 'spite the Strychnine grin.
I'm at this place again where there’s nowhere left to climb
I’m at the top of the ladder with no mountain top in sight
Iron fingers crush granite though weak from the strain
Of carrying the work at this impossible pace
This work, work hard -worked perpetually
Obsolete machine, rust colored and gray
The weight of younger years when considered the golden child
Still somewhat golden, but tarnished now
Can't reflect the sun when I'm all dulled down
Who always heard “...be great!"
I'm finding out how!
To achieve what I need,
To draw and sing
To exceed
The bonds that imprison me are harsh in deed
And Hope, she abandoned me
She never went away
Well, she did
She's into better things...
so...
I'm wide awake now, but too tired to...
5/26/2006 @ 12:34 PM
At the height of the ladder with no mountain top in sight
Shoulders weak from the strain, carrying the weight
Of the hopes that I brought
to this impossible place
The weight of younger years, considered a golden child
Who always heard “you must do…”
yet was never showed how
Lord forgive my blindness, I lost my way
Not seeing the path laid or walking rightly
For not knowing the right way, lost in the haze
Of the smoldering remains of what I'm s'possed to be
This life in dark territory blew me awayThe anger, the sorrow; the weapons of shame
In spite the rage hear the hopeful song
Singing sweet melodies about your
Promise to make me like Joseph was
Slave becomes Prince where the desert wind blows
One talent you gave me; imagination
Invested into seven gifts, let me name some
the draw, the write, the song, the play
the fight like Bruce lee when Chuck came his way
see spirits in the shadows, insanity
plus
patience is a gift, though worn and thin,
been waiting on a breakthrough since half past ten
thirty damned years to let the sun shine in
and a river of bloody tears on dark brown skin
a bitter black cherry soul, soaked in gin
Soft light in my eyes, 'spite the Strychnine grin.
I'm at this place again where there’s nowhere left to climb
I’m at the top of the ladder with no mountain top in sight
Iron fingers crush granite though weak from the strain
Of carrying the work at this impossible pace
This work, work hard -worked perpetually
Obsolete machine, rust colored and gray
The weight of younger years when considered the golden child
Still somewhat golden, but tarnished now
Can't reflect the sun when I'm all dulled down
Who always heard “...be great!"
I'm finding out how!
To achieve what I need,
To draw and sing
To exceed
The bonds that imprison me are harsh in deed
And Hope, she abandoned me
She never went away
Well, she did
She's into better things...
so...
I'm wide awake now, but too tired to...
5/26/2006 @ 12:34 PM
