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Psychotic Good
Caught up in my struggles is the change of the season,
Like air to my fire, like a ground for my reasons
To stand proud, chin up, among the city’s vistas.
I think I’m flushing it out of my system,
Those leftover cravings of an innocent mind
Damaged by the divide, simply left behind,
Once born from a bond that I now deplore.
Count to seven, I don’t care anymore.

They think that it’ll make me happy again
(Their dedication knows no end),
They think I should follow a different life’s design
(I honour them but I decline).
It’s the twenty first century’s fashion statement
To have a plus one, whether you love it or hate it,
But your constant pleas have gotten over the top.
Could you stop?

From my Deadly December to the Meaningful May
I’ve been warming myself with my own words.
Like those newborn leaves welcoming the day
I am opening up to something much more.
A disaster magnet, a ghost of a chance,
I have finally climbed out from the divide,
But I’ve caught a ray of hope with my glance
And right now nobody’s going to break my stride.

I thank you for helping me see that I still feel,
I feared I had a cog installed instead of a heart.
But my justifications are still horribly real
Because there are no breaks on this carnival cart.

I’m glad I still have places that I can discover,
I’m putting all my pamphlets on the highest shelf,
But I don’t want to search for my significant other
As long as I have my insignificant self
(While they believe in what they sell).
I’m still afraid to find an another ruse
(I honour them but I refuse).
It’s the twenty first century’s fashion statement
To have a plus one, even if you hate it,
But your bickering has gotten over the top.
Would you stop?
Will you stop?
Just stop.

@музыка: Poets of the Fall - Clevermind

@темы: poetry detected