- Jun 6, 2017
- 274
- 22
The Artist 2
like a painting to an artist the canvas in full view of self to be in the moment
like a distant pier succumb to the shedding of a single tear
one can become anything they wish to be in the moment sealed with a kiss
life can seemingly fall under your feet if one is not equipped spiritually
the glare on the eye of the faint passerby would excuse you sir
reappear in mid air toward the hand of love one hand to hold a heart will mend
tenderness with friends a loving suggestion with a great question
is a challenge to be free a question of time ?
many people dissappear under the false garb of compromise twisted lies
your heart is an opened door waiting to be explored onto so much more yet what ?
swimming in the same fish bowl year after year exist as a vapor then am no more
we are all in the same cage here so draw tenderly nearer to make things a but clear
each of us has been given a gift called life amidst the vain glory with strife
a bitter sweet devil that will want you to think about things over & twice
another roll of the dice serving tead and gonjahs all the way from China
the smell of her perfume in my room of romantic personifications
why does one equate logic for fear i shed a single tear to draw ever nearer
blinded by science amidst the violence its the call of the wild you lost child
caught up in a dream the fabric of what is torn some may even curse the day they were born
Can see the forest through the trees the smell of a sea breeze
coffee in the morning as a token of our heart felt friendship
the taste of aroma through a filter to penetrate its climatic taste
a powerful explosion in the mind for the walking blind it pays to be kind
walk with me talk with me through the persona between space & time
for now the artist hangs his head down low he must bust up the beat to increase its tempo
showing each one of us the way we should go as I shed a tear a bit of Shakespear
young people speaking there minds out toward the socially blind
the Aristocrat or toward the timid politican who wander as if a wizard
it all needs to make sense to become self evident but the artist hasn't even made a dent
like a painting to an artist the canvas in full view of self to be in the moment
like a distant pier succumb to the shedding of a single tear
one can become anything they wish to be in the moment sealed with a kiss
life can seemingly fall under your feet if one is not equipped spiritually
the glare on the eye of the faint passerby would excuse you sir
reappear in mid air toward the hand of love one hand to hold a heart will mend
tenderness with friends a loving suggestion with a great question
is a challenge to be free a question of time ?
many people dissappear under the false garb of compromise twisted lies
your heart is an opened door waiting to be explored onto so much more yet what ?
swimming in the same fish bowl year after year exist as a vapor then am no more
we are all in the same cage here so draw tenderly nearer to make things a but clear
each of us has been given a gift called life amidst the vain glory with strife
a bitter sweet devil that will want you to think about things over & twice
another roll of the dice serving tead and gonjahs all the way from China
the smell of her perfume in my room of romantic personifications
why does one equate logic for fear i shed a single tear to draw ever nearer
blinded by science amidst the violence its the call of the wild you lost child
caught up in a dream the fabric of what is torn some may even curse the day they were born
Can see the forest through the trees the smell of a sea breeze
coffee in the morning as a token of our heart felt friendship
the taste of aroma through a filter to penetrate its climatic taste
a powerful explosion in the mind for the walking blind it pays to be kind
walk with me talk with me through the persona between space & time
for now the artist hangs his head down low he must bust up the beat to increase its tempo
showing each one of us the way we should go as I shed a tear a bit of Shakespear
young people speaking there minds out toward the socially blind
the Aristocrat or toward the timid politican who wander as if a wizard
it all needs to make sense to become self evident but the artist hasn't even made a dent
