nostalgia

Written by: Mason Lucas

In this evening, I wear the perfect smile, and,
you’ll quake, in the wake of my guile 
Cause I’m the best liar you’ll ever meet,
Because, In a way, I swear, I’d  mean it
Not, to say that I believe it, but 
The intention’s there all the same

This is my confession, my admission of guilt.
Because, it’s upon good intentions, that the road to hell is built
I’m always  working toward my goals, and my dreams
But, in  self observation, I'm beginning to question my means
As of late, been having a lot of trouble, maintaining the tension in the telegraph lines 
And for that reason, the deserving will have no honorable mention
For these wires that run from ear to ear
 have been in disrepair, for the best part of the last year

And, this is my apology, as well as, a desperate plea
Because, in reality, I’m in need, of someone that can  save me,
Someone to be the monkey on my back
And one who possesses all that I lack
Someone who could, with words deify the drying of paint
And, since patience is a virtue, my girl will have to be a saint
Someone who bear with me, when I beg her to stay
and then push her away

Endearingly Awkward, is all I want to be
The martyr, with out the fee
But, the apprehension in me, doth decree
My title has the need for a higher degree
of precision, and simplicity 
And, In fear’s wake, I’m brought to my knees
And, despite my hearts desperate plea, 
I comply, and then cease to be, 
Until, love breathes her life into me

I  feel poison coursing through my logic
And capitulation that could be considered tragic
I’m growing weary, of this battle, 
In which my ambitions are roped like cattle, 
And slaughtered, just to end up filling the bowls and plates
Of, fear, my sworn enemy, the one I’ll never cease to hate

Considered jaded by some, and boring to most
I feel the part of the silhouette, or the ghost
But, in all honesty 
I am, in a word, broken. 
I don’t know, I cant even begin
To tell the difference between ecstasy and agony, 
Or know what to say, when asked about my identity.

in the evening, behind this perfect smile, at my fork in the road, 
contemplating left, or right, and carrying a hell of a load, .
I put faith in a coin toss, 
Not knowing which led to love, and which  to loss, 
caught in clenched fist, 
And slapped down on bare wrist, 
for an instant, i wonder
if this Is reprobation?
Or some road, leading to my vindication?