Tall Tale

A mystery built around mysterious misters

With shifty hippies and shyster hipsters

Angled anguish told by cunning linguists

Contributing to a conflict complete with a fistful of fists

Parents apparently partaking, madly mistaken

Seemingly dreaming that a will, will awaken

Destined for dust; founded the well-rounded

Trying to avoid the hell that has hounded

Sufficient to succeed, they give in to their greed

Wastefully wanting; never minding their needs

A dynasty built around dastardly do-gooders

Complete with contradictory shoulda-woulda-coulders

Mangled melancholy portrayed by pithy playwrights

Coinciding with a conflict that’s frantic to fight

Studious students stumble, sadly mistaken

Hopelessly hoping a will, will awaken

Destined for dust; reveling in rebellion

Trying to get to heaven while holding on to the essence of a hellion

Sufficient to succeed, they skate across the already scathed

Only to find obscurity because of how they’ve behaved

A love built from listless lonely longing

Becoming of beings bearing no sense of belonging

Just a tall tale told by a bothered author

Concluding with no conflict, just one another

Anxiously awaiting a chance to be taken

Beholding a beauty while the will was awakened

Two over six divided by five divine hours

Devouring the idea that this world was now ours

Sufficient to succeed, we solicit for what’s in store

Praying for nothing in particular we both simply want more

Just A Game

When given the chance to be a pawn

We sat and waited for the coming dawn

We knew we were there for more than one

We persevered optimistically awaiting the sun

When given the chance to be a rook

We gave ourselves and never took

We stood as stone and resolved to withstand

We led by benevolence and not by demand

When given the chance to be a bishop

We prayed for a peace that would never stop

We hoped for a happiness that would never end

We longed for a love that would always mend

When given the chance to be a knight

We found something to love and a reason to fight

We held strong to the belief that love did exist

We fought with emotion, but never with fists

When given a chance to see the queen

We gazed upon her beauty; a sight to be seen

We donned our best garments, and put on a show

We hid our love though and didn’t let her know

When given a chance to be a king

I politely declined and asked for just one thing

I asked to be free and left to fate

Because although I’ve checked, I’ve no checkmate

Young & Naïve

Last night forgotten

Slept well but felt rotten

Wake up to no one

Make up my own fun

Dress to impress

Repress the mess

Top hat in hand

Ready to withstand

Class is in session

As I quell this confession

It’s eating me alive

It’s trite and contrived

As she walks gracefully into this room

She comes to nail closed my tomb

Her motive’s clear; this is my last day

Looking perfectly gorgeous, as always

Ever the fearful, I plead like a dunce

Young and naïve though, only works once

Many birds; no stones

But then again; to each his own

Nothing to do, so why not try?

Asking myself “Why God, WHY?”

We’re all over the top

And ready to drop

Dressed to impress

Plummeting towards a mess

Stand up straight

Just participate

It’s eating me alive

It’s still trite and contrived

As the light softly fades into nothing

She seems to vaguely remember something

Her heart beats faster with no explanation

Looking at my coffin locked in contemplation

Ever confused, believing her heart does deceive

Yelling at the coffin, “How could I be so naïve?”

Last class forgotten

Learned nothing; felt rotten

Take steps to move

With nothing to prove

More there, is less

Unless I stop and confess

She can’t occupy her bed

Until she’s sure she’s in my head

Many mistaken

Not stirred, just shaken

It’s eating me alive

It’s still trite and contrived

All alone in the empty cascade

Something in her heart starts to fade

Her mind regresses to never knowing me

Leaving my side she no longer sees

Existing in an instant the love is now long gone

Yearning to be free she’s convinced I wasn’t the one

A pat on the back

To a tip of the hat

A changing of the guard

‘Cuz if it’s easy it’s hard

Into it knee deep

Sow nothing, just reap

Memories to forget

New ones to sublet

Dressed to regress

Into her lovely mess

It’s eating me alive

It’s still trite and contrived

As I lay here upon my dying bed

She wanders off to be in someone else’s head

Her memory I keep, but my memory she erases

Longing just to see her, but we’re in different places

Empty, defeated, annoyed with feeling this way

Young and naïve, but what more can I say?