Gum

Why add to the masses to lie to?

When all he really wants is somebody like you

It’s funny what passes as friendship

As all he’s found are children on ego trips

The numbers climb higher as they accept

But they seem to be forgetting the key concept

It’s funny what passes for an acquaintance

As all he’s found, to him, doesn’t make sense

It’s losing its flavor, but we keep chewing nonetheless

Another distasteful relationship; yet another mess

Why add to the masses to cry to?

When all he really needs is somebody like you

It’s funny what passes as a confidante

As all he’s found is nothing he wants

They all just want someone to want them

All they want is another to condemn

It’s funny what passes as a soul mate

As all he’s found becomes more to hate

It’s losing its flavor, but we keep chewing still

Another soon to be dead-end that we can’t kill

Why add to the masses to try to?

When all he really desires is somebody like you

It’s funny what passes for giving a shit

As all he’s found continues to up and quit

You talk as if you couldn’t just talk to him

You act as if you’re missing limbs

It’s funny what keeps this world going round

And he asks: “Is this really all I’ve found?”

It’s losing its flavor, but we keep chewing, seemingly forever

String it along until you’re all strung out; never sever

My Dotted Line

He dissociates in the crowd

To a place where they’re not there

He dissolves to find a way

To disassemble those who dare not care

Why participate in rituals

Where one side will clearly be wrong

Why adopt worn out opinions

That will change again before long

I stand amidst a freeway

Atop my simple dotted line

As the cars go flying by me

I’m unphased; yes I am fine

They can’t shake my confidence

Or impart their made up lies

Because my dotted line goes on

As they just drive on by

He associates ideas around him

About those who stare out there

He resolves to find a way

To assemble at a place where she’s there

Why partake in foolish bickering

When your side will be wrong to the other

Why not stand back and watch them fall

Another and another

I stand amidst a freeway

Atop my simple dotted line

As the cars go flying by me

I’m unphased; yes I am fine

They can’t strike me where I stand

I won’t lie down; to them, consign

Feel the breeze, it means I’m still here

Safely on my dotted line

Nonsense

How many times have I seen

The two before the one

Just trying to be seen

As a walk turns to a run

How many times have I found knots

Just trying to contain

All that I wish I’d forgot

As a life turns too insane

I can’t help but shed a tear

For the music I won’t hear

How many times have I heard you say

The way you really feel

Just trying to prevent dismay

As dreams collide with what’s real

How many times have I shot glances

At that flowing friend of mine

Trying to calculate my chances

Of being able to opine

I can’t help but shed a tear

For what you will not hear

How many times have I seen you go

Through the process of selection

Forget the ones you know

Only to find the wrong connection

How many times have I been here

Trying to write what can’t be said

Wishing you could only hear

The nonsense in my head

I can’t help but shed a tear

For the words you cannot hear

I can’t help but disappear

In a search for the sincere

Fall

In a day he figured out where to go

But then the next day he didn’t know

In a way he was assumed to already know, what to know

Then make it stick and keep it so

All the while the leaves were changing color

And a newfound passion he did discover

All the while his thoughts argued with each other

In a half-hearted search for a simple lover

In a minute he knew that he was correct

But in the next hour he could no longer accept

That in a day he would no longer recollect

And in a week his heart would go unchecked

All the while the leaves fell to the ground

And that newfound passion could no longer be found

All the while his thoughts would circle around

As his cover tore and he became unbound

And the pages flew free

But in no particular order

The story of his life

Now had a plot of disorder

The setting roamed free

And accepted no borders

The characters defected

And turned his life into torture

In a day he figured out what to do

But then the next day it was no use

In a way he felt this was all undue

But he couldn’t escape it; it was true

All the while the leaves were changing hues

And that newfound passion was being defused

All the while his thoughts would make him confused

As he hopelessly tried to look for an excuse

If one had stopped to ask him for change

They might have spotted the forces that did derange

But they passed as he tried to rearrange

The disorder in his life that would not change

All the while the leaves were crushed under shoes

And that newfound passion was all but old news

All the while his thoughts were of that old muse

And in this moment he now had to choose…

Let the pages flow free

In no particular order

Let the story of his life

Plot his ensured disorder

Let the setting set him

And define his borders

Let the characters defect

And continue, him, to torture

On this day he woke up simply divine

And convinced the world that he was fine

On this day the words were his to align

Get that girl, and spill the wine

All the while the leaves would again grow

And that newfound passion would have to come and go

All the while his thoughts were of just what he needed to know

And he learned to embrace disorder’s ebb and flow

Find A Penny

I drop pennies to give other people good luck

Other people complain even though they aren’t stuck

Stuck on you, and finding a whole mess of knots

Not that you’d share, but a penny for your thoughts?

I fade my memory so that everyone can sleep

Everyone has memories they’d rather not keep

I’m keeping with a regiment that’s clearly detrimental

Mentally erasing all my memories from the fall

I search the horizons with tears in my eyes

They eye my horizon and plot my demise

Demystifying a mind I call my own

Own up to the truth that we all search alone

I pick up the pennies I’ve dropped for others

While others find luck in finding perfect lovers

Love of a life that wants to rest its head

While my head just wants sense instead

I grow tired of counting sheep that flock

Flocking to a lifestyle that’s all just talk

Talking about the pennies that they’ve all found

Finding the dime a dozen that are all around

I fade my memory so that I can sleep

Sleep and dream about what I can’t keep

Keeping up with others will surely exhaust me

So I exhaust the memories that I still see

I look at the change that we’ve dropped

Drop the act and hope for good, it’s stopped

Stopping to end at another unresolved state

Resolving to make sure I don’t change too late…