Thursday, April 02, 2009
Doing Fine
I've reached out for you.
I hear you're doing fine.
They say you're still chasing your life.
They say you're still trying.
They say you're doing fine.
When i watch you from a distance, i'm still amazed at your shapes and your forms.
At the light that hugs your wasted silhouette.
Your same wasted silhouette.
But i had learned, by experience and by mistake, that a pattern doesn't always carry a promise.
So i watch silently, religiously, from the shades.
I poke at the darkness with diligent eyes, and just a tad of wry amusement to be quite honest.
I try to tamper with the space that separates us.
But as the dawn ushers in a new day, in my world it's still yesterday, and the day before.
So i watch quietly, piously, with my diligent eyes and my wry amusement.
I watch you making patterns while you're doing fine.
And i take photographs of the ordinary.
I hear you're doing fine.
They say you're still chasing your life.
They say you're still trying.
They say you're doing fine.
When i watch you from a distance, i'm still amazed at your shapes and your forms.
At the light that hugs your wasted silhouette.
Your same wasted silhouette.
But i had learned, by experience and by mistake, that a pattern doesn't always carry a promise.
So i watch silently, religiously, from the shades.
I poke at the darkness with diligent eyes, and just a tad of wry amusement to be quite honest.
I try to tamper with the space that separates us.
But as the dawn ushers in a new day, in my world it's still yesterday, and the day before.
So i watch quietly, piously, with my diligent eyes and my wry amusement.
I watch you making patterns while you're doing fine.
And i take photographs of the ordinary.
Labels: Tales Of The Butterfly