What Drawer Do You Keep Your Stockings

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What drawer do you keep your stockings
Without secrets this life would be boring
Realize we’re all a little vain
Or we’d never get dressed in the morning

Moonshine martinis for the quiet lady
We all need an excuse to clear our minds
Offering a compassionate ear
The clues exist once you pull back the rind

Finding lipstick stains in the spilled ink
Dangerous curves under a vintage coat
Hushed tones as to not spook such a woman
The peculiarities of each soul; I take note

Taking The Time To Toe The Line

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Taking the time to toe the line
Avoiding the demands of unforgiving eyes
Inventing excuses & repeating “everything’s fine”
Society’s broken where truth are all lies

Hope is now measured in slant angles & slopes
Our manufactured social media is a bust
Force fed algorithms & prickly tropes
From Camelot to dystopia when there’s no one to trust

Intense.

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Intense.
Uncontrollably shake your foot
Another morning wide awake
Experience as black as soot

We can only be who we are
No sense living in the past tense
These are the ramifications
Blinded to your own suspense

I know who we once were
Though they are now gone
Not victim to anything
Excuses made you the pawn

Shed these moments of hate
Bringing you down another level
Dreams of agony by default
Embraced, but slightly disheveled

Regroup at the breakfast table
Another chance to forever adjust
Calming thoughts to carry through
After all, we’re merely cosmic dust

Running Headlong Into The Woods

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Running headlong into the woods
With your meaningless tropes
Escaping any notion of your gaze
Slipping confinement & your stubborn hope

Never wished to be dubbed “wild”
At least not in your repetitive sense
Feeling numb to your expectations
Not remaining to hear your bland defense

Each step leads me further on my trek
Compounding the rules I unwittingly defied
Down the trail & away from your excuses
I didn’t listen, but I’m sure it’s all justified

On The Shores Of Ol’ Patagonia

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On the shores of Ol’ Patagonia
While the citizens did sleep
Youthful fear of affection
Yet into the woods, they silently creep

Don’t let on how you feel
For you might get what you want
The pain of admitting you care
& perchance it might forever haunt

The burden of carrying embarrassment
& possibly feeling regret this long
Thy youth’s clear true love
But hindsight tells me I was wrong

For I wasn’t brave enough to trust
Too busy being incorrect by name
Fear welling into my soul
But I loved her all the same

It’s not fair to bring up old times
Immaturity & self-reject are not a virtue
I don’t deserve her thoughts nor sentiments
In the end, never good enough for you

Still thinking of what might’ve been
Or an excuse to freshly misbehave
Angst & teenaged awkwardness
Take a shot & take it all to my grave

Sometimes You Just Need An Excuse

Sometimes you just need an excuse
To do something completely irrational…
Small moments creating larger smiles
This party is increasing – It’s going National
Jerry’s singing loud, making me dance
Wave that flag, wave it wide & high
Light the fires, let’s make it count
Happy Birthday, America! – on this 4th of July!

Excuse Me, Miss

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Excuse me, Miss
I need help between the books
You look down your glasses at me
Don’t worry about their errant looks
You’re dressed mighty nice
I think it’s by the back shelves
It seems I’ve gotten us lost
Oh my, I think we’re by ourselves
I pull you in close
A hand sneaks under your skirt to play
You moan aloud; onlookers’ smile
Apparently we’re still on display

 

Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay