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relentless fists of time
I'm getting older and observing progress
I cannot help but view regression
Popular culture continues its quest to join great wars
One predictable yet so compelling
Like the paint by numbers I loved as a boy
And of the girl who wanted to marry rich
With a ring of gold and a slipper of glass
I remain in the pits, mining to keep us going
Remaining with the rest of the men who broke your heart
The ballads that mesmerized me as a youth
Are now mere words in a prewritten eulogy
Designed for the fall of something great
I can recall holding them closer than you
But just like everything pure and innocent
I lost it to the pressures of sexuality
I don't believe today will find its place in history
It's as mundane as you or I
As we sit on the train heading for the coal mines
We hold our heads up high to eachother
But hold them in our hands to our slavery
Scraping for pieces that convince us
That maybe things are getting better
The great mystery is no mystery
But I can't help you find the answers
Except to say they aren't far off
You'll notice them when you notice your ugly little offspring
Unappreciative of your sweat
And they believ that thier day is freshest
But you'll know that you've smelt this fragrance before
After complaining that love hasn't helped your fortune
And that you've given "it" all that you've "got"
What you got isn't worth a nickel
In the end you leave this plane
And realize you will be forgotten when the
Flowers around your stone resemble Rock and Roll
Just remember that there is always a second chance
Next time, you'll win
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Comment by: - 2007-01-20 12:45
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| nice |
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| ouch to realities ..but good work .. |
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Comment by: - 2006-03-19 19:55
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| I adored :"flowers around your stone resemble Rock and Roll"...The way you have expressed growing older and the routine of life swallowing our past desires and spitting them out in our faces as little ingrates of offspring was brilliant. Alas you have left us with a glimmer of hope that the next time..may be more victorious. - Leah |
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You,ve got it Daniele! That is exactly what I am getting at. I think people wait thier whole lives to try next time but they never get to it and then they pass. Don't do this! That is my warning call.
You also hit it on the head with the rock and roll simile. When I wrote this piece I thought it was a good idea, but when I was typing out a year later it seemed forced. |
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I like the title of this piece, it is like a beautiful bruise.
I agree, it almost reads like spoken word, the flow works well.
I'm not sure about the flowers on the grave resembling Rock and Roll. Somehow the image didn't gel for me, I interpret it to mean the flowers are somehow dead or perhaps moribund if one is to say that Rock n Roll is dead, but the Rock and Roll simile doesn't seem to tie in with the rest of the poem for me. I like the final two lines a lot. Sarcasm or a promise of redemption? |
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