Fluttering hearts on a broken trail
Do you know your own soul
Too many nights
Too many sad songs
Your mind sent off balance
Thinking cursed thoughts
Can you cleanse yourself
Any way to be free
Fluttering Hearts On A Broken Trail
sad
Finding The Courage To Excel
Finding the courage to excel
Knowing your place doesn’t compute
Internal struggles with society
Forcing a soul to be steadfast & resolute
Innocent people lost in tragic groupthink
Needing to be fleshed out in their own air
It’s a lonely world among the righteous
Devoid of rhetoric; most are sadly unaware
A Fine Suited Man With Terrible Inklings
A fine suited man with terrible inklings
Hands on her shoulders; easy to confide
Pouring drinks & erasing her sadness
Falling by the wayside with time & tide
Beauty is merely a natural configuration
Each button gone, an uncontrollable urge
His intentions told with a silent tongue
Embraced & now they lovingly merge
Scatterbrained Today
Scatterbrained today
Feeling raw weight of tension
The world’s burden
Hindrances to fateful ascension
Regret & sad resignation
This wasn’t in the script
Perseverance through hope
It’s the only way – she quipped
It Was A One-Eyed Kind Of Morn
It was a one-eyed kind of morn
With evening’s festivities going awry
I scrawled out all I could remember
Once a gentleman, turned drunken guy
Slight images of a lovely form
Olfactory sparks upon my brain
Sketching the party’s guest list
But no new faces could remain
Racking my skull for a proper memory
Writing down every & each detail
Compiling a list to rediscover
I’m trying to think, but it’s to no avail
A faceless gown with affectionate gloves
Somehow my mind is able to recall
Cognitive fragments begin to linger
Clouded out by last night’s alcohol
Scenes slowly begin to return
I believe we were out on the dance floor
An embrace of smoldering desire
Yet I couldn’t figure out any more
Scraps of notes spread before me
No identity to place upon the truth
Scant reason to be shy in my search
Basking in honesty of my lapsed youth
Cobwebs have been sparsely lifted
Won’t think of her in the passed tense
Her ghostly touch encourages me yet
We shall meet again, I firmly sense
To hold her with determined spirit
Seems fantastical at this sad rate
Yet she’s left fingerprints upon me
Remaining until I succumb to my fate
Does Life Have You
Does life have you
Feeling blue?
Well, naked jumping jacks
Are the only thing to do
*originally posted on former blog
Captain Q 