Hobnobbing On A Summer’s Day

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Hobnobbing on a summer’s day
Listening to a calm Pan flute
Barefooted on the peaceful grass
But this heat makes it all moot
Ignoring all the world’s hate
We choose love above all the static
Holding on for a moral life
Survival in this society is never automatic

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The Pressures Of A Creative World

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The pressures of a creative world
The mind’s eye reflecting society
Sculpting words to fit this day
My life better when wrapped in piety
But you must choose your own path
No one can tell you what you need to do
Your experiences are solely your own
In the end, your happiness is simply up to you

Where Do We Keep Our Secrets

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Where do we keep our secrets
The ones we can never use
Buried beneath lost hopes
But you can’t choose your muse
The beautiful bleeding hearts
Or scantily-clad ladies; so demure
Inspiration reigning down upon us
Souls perform best when the soul is pure

Choosing Certain Words

  

Choosing certain words
With connotations to stir
The hearts of the audience
Cocked crow with pubic fur
Sitting uncomfortably – like whaa?
Where the hell is he going with this
Delusional in this rehabilitating fatigue
Longing for the peace that I miss