My, My, My
My, My, My
My life is a crack in the concrete
My faith is an old newspaper cutout
My soul is the drifting clouds
My heart is a crystal sphinx
My core is as solid as a cup of pudding
My voice is a hundred tapping feet
So many words circle around my mind
Reminding me I could never speak them all
I wish the sky was closer so I could touch it
When I feel like I'm falling from oh so high
Many times I feel like I'm selling stories
Good enough to be read but never instant classics
These feelings I feel are taped to my heart
But the duct tape is slowly peeling away
A lot of verbs represent what I like to do
But there's a lot of verbs I'll never experience
Yet maybe if the iron walls come crashing
I'll experience life like a brand new dictionary
My life is a leaf falling to the ground
My faith is an old unread novel
My soul is the stars in the universe
My heart is a sabertooth tiger
My core is merely a collection of bottle caps
My voice is a hundred buzzing vuvuzelas
Days pass where I cut words from magazines
Folding them up into old albums I'll never look at again
I keep dipping my feet into pits of brownie mix
Wishing I could taste yet I lack a tongue
Most of the time I'm living an ancient ghost story
Locked in the basement of a haunted mansion
Yet these wood paneled walls can't keep me in
Not when I'm as tall as any adjective in my mind
Not a day passes when I don't look at the sky
To see if I can cut the truth from the very clouds
It's like a hundred new mysteries each and every day
Just waiting for eager minds to find them
My life is the sun setting in the horizon
My faith is an old countryside sit-in diner
My soul is the song of a million grasshoppers
My core is the binding of an old book
My voice is the breath of a thousand sleeping babies
Copyright © Christopher Goss | Year Posted 2011
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