2012/11/28

Glare be Damned - 2012/11/28

Take their torture poor old ears
Tired hands are faithfully stoic
While we prioritize our survival
In lieu of doing anything heroic

This is a time to simply take it
Despite any accolades we deserve
After the great performance ends
They will mourn the loss of verve

Pack up its time to hit the road
Unknown yet pointing to the stars
For paradise is somewhere waiting
Beyond dead ghettos and blue bars

Do not ask why the wanderer walks
Every true answer is self evident
For living life on anothers terms
Is life to which I cannot consent

An artist or conniver selling lies
Which I am you will have to decide
But know that I will never regret
Moving to call an end to our ride

If my actions agitate insecurities
Know that it shall never bother me
Simply put this vagabond must roam
While there are wonders left to see

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