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Stephen Geddis, Contributor.
Blue as the ocean.
I cried as boy.
I sailed with false colours.
No tides of joy.
Waves of tension.
They thud as darts.
They raise like suspension.
They flood my heart.
In the dead of the night,
As silent as a grave, I lie in the dark.
I develop the pain – like photographs
As I picture you but I hope it will pass.
I can’t sleep.
Thoughts of death
Won’t let me rest in peace til I’ve lost my breath.
They won’t leave me alone.
The only way I will rest in peace is when it’s engraved on my tombstone.
Looming on the horizon,
A rising star.
Shooting for the moon But I land afar.
So does the moon shine alone or is it surround by stars?
Is love made by time or does it come by chance?
Will it ever waltz towards me or am I too slow for its dance?
My eyes glance as my Castle in the Sky is cast down to earth,
Trampled by what lies in mouths of dirt.
It’s Your Words, not birds that make the air fowl.
So will I find “love” in “volumes” of “vowels”
Do I owe you my time on this earth?
Or as a “chaser” will I be lost in “search”?
You act lily white, innocent and pure as snow.
But your bright complexion has melted it, though.
Now I see the filth below.
Girlfriends all come to an end.
Be it in the word or when.
They’ll leave your heart as well as your pockets broke.
Then without shame, they go up in smoke.
That’s why they’re called old flames.