Mobe's days

The day's disdain shall never refrain from the pain that the rain will wash away. But tomorrows sorrow shall give cause to claim that today's was just yesterday's gain





This is a free thought process to which I intend to entertain and insiniuate debate and humor into what I consider a banal universe. I implore you to leave comment or critique and also to question my purposes if you so desire. It is my intent to invoke creative thought and even a new perspective, though I do not expect all to want the invasion of their minds for the duration of my soapbox. I will censor nothing, but cannot promise that it won't be at a higher desk. Enjoy!~mobe

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Maybe I'll Accept Who I Am

Maybe I'll Accept Who I Am

Empty and alone I stare at four walls. The lamp light is off and nobody calls.
This sinking feeling I have makes me scared to wander through life climbing up empty stairs.
A sickness has took hold of the feeling I once had and twisted my gut from what's good to what's bad,
As I grasp on real tight to the air that I breathe. There's nobody here except little old me.

But maybe I can find somewhere in this place,
But maybe all these tears will give way to embrace,
But maybe I alone will look into this face,
And maybe I'll accept who I am.

Quiet in the streets, no one's here to play. All the children have gone their own separate way.
Somewhere in a room a mother shed's her soul and her lost long lover hasn't returned from a war.
I only mumble softly for there's one witness to the need and the desolation creeps in for kill and for feed,
As I grasp on real hard to the air that escapes. There's nobody here I accept my own fate.

But maybe I can see through the dark and the meek,
But maybe through the years I will find what I seek,
But maybe I alone will give chase to what I plea,
And maybe I'll accept who I am.

That chair over there rocking gently alone with no man on it's seat to call it his throne,
And the shutters in this dream all will clap and will crash with a lion's roar on the ground's wasting vast.
As the world all around has crumbled and piled, I will lie down and watch it for just a little while,
As I grasp on real sound to the air thick and dank with loneliness all around there is no one to thank.

Time will keep going when flesh turns to ash. There's no way of knowing how long this will last.
As the keeper has mirth in the smile on their mouth, when they open to speak cannot hear what they shout.
I am dying, I know, from the torture inside. It is me that I poke all the places I hide,
As I grasp one last breath from my lips in a gasp. Can anyone hear me last words that I ask?

But maybe I can find somewhere in this place,
But maybe all these tears will give way to embrace,
But maybe I alone will look into this face,
And maybe I'll accept who I am...yes maybe I'll accept who I am.

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