
Drinking wine for old times’ sake
Swilling memories into miraculous rebirth
Our bodies are the height of impermanence
But we seldom understand what we’re worth
Drinking wine for old times’ sake
Swilling memories into miraculous rebirth
Our bodies are the height of impermanence
But we seldom understand what we’re worth
Faded perceptions of underlying joy
Time weathers away what is true
Hard residue of the glittering spoils
Returning everything back to you
The sun bleaches your most precious
Salt-laden & resolving to remain
Chipped & authentically real
Beauty seldom exists without pain
Feeling dry docked
Removed from the routine
A jolting change
Seldom so blatantly seen
Gasping for air
A life that may be your own
Ginger movements
Sensitive to a sullen tone
Transactionally stealing poetry from her diary
Thinking pretty thoughts, my lady crooner
Shedding our shared idealized past
Ravishingly disheveled from another nooner
These things are seldom spoken aloud
Angels sing out; no longer so distant
Breached actions distorting our thoughts
Heartbroken; leaving you feeling resistant
I’m out here worshipping my secular goddess
Looking for quiet now & avoiding unsolicited advice
Passion not always akin to pleasure
Focused to ensure my kisses are nice & precise
Hymns for modern children
A return to morbid fairytales
Truth being slowly digested
Compassion when beauty fails
Lost in this troubled society
Where equality goes to die
Slaughtered dreams
& a speck in your brother’s eye
Life can be tough, harsh even
It seldom matters if you’re right
Morality often seems hijacked
& then they bid you a sweet goodnight
Finding that smile
Extraction from the routine
Knowing the fatigue
A surprise seldom seen
But we can be happy
In spite of our stress
A little twirl to start
& then off with your dress!
Chasing time down a rabbit’s hole
Knowing there’s no way to go on back
Don’t look that way, it’s a mirage
Ghosts aren’t known to be tracked
But we seldom heed our own advice
Reason vanished into our past decisions
Demons try to cling, but they don’t exist
For these antiquated memories are mere apparitions

We have quiet inspirations
Somber tones you seldom realize
Shifting away from self-imposed
Heartaches & their relayed lies
We must accept the responsibility
Adulting was never part of the plan
Though you gotta make the most of it
Take it from me – Sincerely
The Pan