How can I write about love when all I know is pain? All I know is false hope and crushed dreams.
Anyway, my friend Missy is planning an event that, this year, that will benefit cancer research. It will consist of food, live music, booths, games, etc. The festivities will occur sometime in May. Not sure on the exact date. If you or anyone you know, knows of anyone who would be able to help out in anyway, let me know. Thanks!
Furthermore, I've been writing a lot more Poetry? I guess you could call it. I'm not sure if my form is any good but as far as I'm concerned, anything that art is art. No boundaries, no stipulations. Just you and the things you feel. Simple and delicate. Intricate and rough. You can thank my buddy Taylor.
Toes hanging off the edge of town,
the sidewalks ended, run out of ground,
and the sun slips through the sky, down,
while I stand in the lights of that old ford.
The engines still running into the night,
the tail pipe smoke curtails towards the moons light,
drifting like I used to, like I still want to, like I still am,
through a that old cemetery known as life.
Just another coal mining town, where children come to die,
Just another dead end road baring witness to time,
we were all friends, and we were nothing like them,
and we've got death constricted, wrapped tight.
I just don't want to continue to pretend,
like everything is still alright, like it used to,
and I can still taste that red lipstick on my lips,
look how clumsy time has made me.
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