Monday, November 23, 2009

Stained Sky

Grey stained sky,
you'd remember as we walked by
the sun fighting clouds through isn't strong enough
Green brightly colored bushes as a symbol of my pride
and all the shame I've left behind
walking by your side has hardly ever been this rough
"What tree is that?", I'd say
what kind of fruit I would taste anyway
but you just laughed at my doubts and my face

And then I wished this church was crowded
and the roof suddenly crashed down on its own
so you and I would be alone
joined only by the holy authorities and the grey sky
I nearly died when you didn't tell me
about the pain you had to hide
from the spying clouds above

Such wish has never been told
how lemons secretly stop growing old
when you know the right way to take their juice away
and leave their feeble bodies free of guilt or fault
to fall softly and happy straight down
on the ground

Who would ever be as crazy and sad as to paint
his own house with such a crazy happy pink color
If we were walking down that road I'd maybe stop and stare
but truly, I don't care
though my deadlines are so damn near
and I'm still not worried,
any shade of fear within my grasp
but then am I to blame when the garden is still stainless
for my flawless lack of interest
if only I could reach the skies
and get rid of their grey hesitation
when I can't help but hesitate
if only the daylight would play me again
some jazzy piano and Spanish strings
a great performer such as the sun remains trapped amongst things
I don't know nothing of

It is fine but it is not
the harder I try, the lesser I manage to fix this plot

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