Phone Cahoneys
I smell the smoke and taste defeat,
But I'll just silently grit my teeth.
Can't you see; can't you tell?
I'm quite happy; here in my "hell".
Why can't I say something
When I know that's how to win
I guess because I couldn't care less
About the state my love life's in.
Do I really want her anyway?
Am I just inviting the nerves?
What to ask, what to say?
What happened to me being good with words?
I'm good with writing but bad with speaking
I stick to my comfort zone of rhyming
And all this is just discussion,
But don't you find it a tad alarming?
It wasn't her chance missed but mine
I'm too laid-back, gave too much time
No-one goes for kind and caring
When that person lacks the balls to be daring
Stalker at heart and also by habit
I don't believe in something until I have it
My habit is faking non-conformity:
I'm heading for boring; against all that's been taught to me.
I'm so bad it took a fictional character
To tell me what I was doing wrong
But to make it worse and more degrading
I had to realise with an A4 song.
{things don't just happen, we make them}
(untitled)
I spend my life
With head held down
Staring at the ground.
I tell myself
I do it because
My eyes can't take the light.
But the truth of it all
Is I won't look around
For fear of losing my sight.
I spend my life
With head held down
Hiding from the rain.
I chose my house as shelter
Will I ever leave again?
Responsibility clouds my mind
As I remember when...
I live my life for the watching eyes,
Knowing that they see through my lies.
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