Tell it to masses,
You beautiful soul,
That I want to have what you have
For this life will be annulled.
Your simple yet boisterous elegance
Plays silver tongues and ivory lips
I'll weave you plainsongs with romance
And barricade the next eclipse.
Preaching words of alabaster
And singing songs of chance
Preposterous is only word in my dictionary
Sensibility takes a final stance
The whole world could be my adversary
But to me it would not matter,
I would dance and still be merry
And the world would become sadder.
Now just tell it to the masses
You humbled enigma
That the chains bound around me
I will never be free of.
For I love your vivacious mind
but I'm just the simple kind.
Published: 05-03-2016
Updated: 06-17-2016
YOU ARE READING
Growing Pains and Summer Rain
Poetry"we're all just mere beings desperately trying to stay the same in an ever-changing universe." {HIGHEST RANKING: #14 in Poetry and I'm still screaming in joy} Sometimes I curse in these. Don't steal my work.
