Five.
Hopefully, one day
You'll forgive me for
Everything I caused
To go wrong for you
Six.
One day, you'll speak again
To me, the words that were
The words that said it all
Making my day brighter
Than these dry, dying thoughts
Seven.
Meanwhile, while I fake the smile
That everyone longs to see,
Believe I don't hide inside
It's a quiet hill with you
Words rarely spoken twixt us
Without you though, the quiet kills
Eight.
I never thought that my efforts
Could open up a part of you
Which would let me into your life
And was I right? So very right
The doors to you were closed for me
While others entered seamlessly
Left outside, knowing how I failed
Cue Music.
Koishikute
Studio B
- Mark
- When you need to wake up in the morning, and set the right mood for the day, when you need to escape from the overwhelming everything of life. What do you turn to? How do you describe your core without speaking aloud, without having to talk to someone about it? This is how. Music. Lyrics. Poetry. Do you feel it? Do you? It's here, it's everywhere, locked within you, within the most tone deaf of us. It's begging to be released, become unleashed in a tearing chord, a crying melody, soulful harmony, dying lyric. You feel it yet? It's concealed here, within every word that I write. This is my release. I want you to see it, to feel it with me. This pure expression of every tangible and imaginable emotion known and unknown to man. To me. Welcome to The Window.