Dreaming Of A Forgotten Summer

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Dreaming of a forgotten summer

Youth; wild eyes & full of spice

The hope only the fresh may know

Never finding your innocence twice

The Good Lord blesses us daily

The sun’s warmth will always provide

Moments to bask, wading in the water

Burdens swept in the outgoing tide

Eyeing the inevitable future

Knowing we must make ourselves free

Standing strong with cheerful hearts

& worries washing themselves out to sea

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Garments Left By The Wayside

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Garments left by the wayside
Memories of what never was
Youth captured by a tender fear
Old age returning me to a fuzz
Life limps on without the truth
Awkward & direct; yet somehow free
A forgotten note whispered close
On my own feet; now I can finally see

what kind of a world

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what kind of a world

are we teaching
our children
to live in

it’s the year of our Lord
twenty-eighteen
our homes speak to us
yet we’re pushing common core math
dumbing down of our youth
we’ve lost our way
forcing political agendas
instead of teaching

in a post-apocalyptic society
when we’ve lost power

are we going to be
worried about basic
algebra?!

Skyfall

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It’s not a crime to be pretty
Wearing rented dresses, searching for a breadwinner
Socialites & other plastic people
No redeeming qualities, but she wants to be thinner
Her vagina will accept almost anything
Whether it be dollars, pounds, marks or kroner
A consummate professional at all times
She expects to be well paid for every geriatric boner
You don’t look gift whores in the mouth
Searching for a sugar daddy, anyone will do
Sitting in the bullpen, hoping to get promoted
Waiting to pluck her next victim, how many already gone through
That swath leaving nothing to the imagination
Offended when the whispers mention a gold digger
Everyone can spy those silicone scars
Next time she’ll go a couple of cups bigger
Sucking more than the marrow out of life
She’s trading her youth for money & security
But once tarnished, Innocence forever besmirched
Time is constantly magnifying all your impurities
There are certain priorities in this life
A father must keep his daughters off the pole
But something much less discussed nowadays
What do you do once she grew without a soul
This scene is littered with heinous & fickle creatures
Cloaked, it slowly begins to scandalize & appall
Men with large billfolds & absolutely no shame
The current failure of society & they call it Skyfall

I Often Catch Myself

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I often catch myself
Glancing up at your windowpane
Occasionally seeing your silhouette
Memories of youth still remain

Possibly spying a lacy chemise
But now you’re wearing the curtains
Or maybe there was nothing on
But I couldn’t know for certain

The morning light not quite seen
I might feel like a common creeper
Alternate lifetimes in my mind
Yet I still know you’d be a keeper
I see your beautiful soul hiding
A passionate soul now a mere outline
Locked away in your precious life
I’m sure you’d say you’re doing fine

Possibly spying a lacy chemise
But now you’re wearing the curtains
Or maybe there was nothing
But I couldn’t know for certain

I see boundaries in your thought
I’m not intending to be rude
You can make your own decisions
I don’t wish to trespass nor intrude
You’re the princess in your castle
Not a figment of my invention
Locked eyes before you looked away
Somehow grateful for the attention

We Used To Know The Truths

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We used to know the truths
The fundamentals of our lives
Misplaced inspiration in youth
We, the lost children, who survived
Abandoned by artists searching for gold
Forgetting the dream of accepting yourself
Never admitting we’ve grown this old
Rejection of impending imperial wealth
Fuck your Republicans & Democrats
Those who sold the vision with betrayal
Insensitive bastards of the Cheshire Cat
Unsteady appeasement & divided we fail

You’ll Find Me Beyond The Cobblestones

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You’ll find me beyond the cobblestones
Quiet man writing within a chaotic confine
Euphoric bedlam swinging from the rafters
A modest home upon the steep incline
Spirited princesses keeping me youthful
A curmudgeon with a loving streak
An honest hermit with little to say
Though here silence will not translate to meek

You Don’t See It

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You don’t see it
The boys not getting enough sleep
Those who have abandoned their homes
Keeping watch over the watery deep
You don’t see it
Those who dream of something better
Youth sacrificing blindly
Riding the tide, salt spray getting wetter
You don’t see it
Loading sea bags in early morning hours
Walking the gangplank in the face of fear
Trusting their lives to a Greater Power

*This is dedicated to the boys & girls who voluntarily leave the comfort of a normal life to do something different. We all have our reasons for why we’re here. I humbly thank those who have come before me, those standing next to me and those who will carry on the watch after my time is complete.

I’m Not Feeling Myself These Days

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I’m not feeling myself these days
My body creaking when I walk
I grow tired as soon as the sun sets
The youth no longer listen when I talk
Life hasn’t changed; I’ve grown old
I’m no longer the freshest young man
But do not underestimate this mind
For it’s still spry & I’ll always be the Pan

I’m Driving Down By The Beach

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I’m driving down by the beach
Radio tuned to Lana Del Rey
Trying to turn back the clock
Warm, salty air to celebrate the day
Looking for a moment to feel alive
To relive the trappings of youth
Ignoring the aches of aging
To deny the inescapable truth