Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Superficial Meaning

I look upon the sky above me
With all of its lost stars
As the roof below
Puts me above the rest
That including my lesser self
And yet I still find I rest
Upon a dreary pedestal
As if I was a bust
In an abandoned home office
Thinking about something beyond
Those internal perversions
Which I can't help but think of
For I don't know much better
I force my head above
And I swoon from the predictable magic
Letting my heart beat faster
Without it pumping more blood
Without it filling those needed pores
Still, I feel that those it goes to
Need its fervor to intensify
For my heart has not learned yet
How to fill such holes
It does the next best it can
And it lets me see those stars better
Maybe not how they really are
But at least I don't let them be lost
I keep that in mind when I come down
And I tell a story rather than their myth
But their influence pervades my narrative
And those willing to be closer
Make up their mind
To open to me theirs and more
And while those previous thoughts
Come back once more
Reminding me of their truth
And hoping for it to take hold
I still want to let that magic come by
Even if such cliches are not needed
I just don't see it any other way
If I wish to explore those minds
That I have opened with lost stars
That spoke to my lost soul

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