I'M Not Sure You Know What To Say

I wonder today As I sift through the sands And peer through the depths of other peoples verbalized talents Works of intricate emotion and stanzas of hyperboles oxymoron’s and similes and metaphor When I refuse to welcome you to my world When you stumbled all this way And I show you how to clip an angel’s wings and you relate to the angel Even though you have soo many inner demons I’m not sure you know what to say So I sit here in the silence And stutter to myself I lay in bed at night and talk to myself I hang pictures on the wall to inspire me to push me and listen to things that will drive me to become another But when you open this chapter of the metaphor I will upon your sleeve When you walk through that open door And are not too sure of what I mean to my soul mate when I say that one day in heaven his experience will be a love note from me I'm not sure you know what to say Soo many of you are of few words and soo few of you are of many The angels are soo far away And the four demons, my invisible enemies are always on this merry go round too busy to stop the roller caster where I find myself Dizzy I am Confused I am Abstract and bizarre Creatively thrown away by my fairytale godmother I dream To remind me I am a man of some higher power god And instant gratification isn’t necessarily what I need from the race of a reflection that doesn’t understand why it cowers Instead of receives While I clip the angels and fool the demons with the thoughts and words of the wise and how I hate more than you You become my poetry with hearts on your sleeve a valentine I cant send demanding healthcare for Christmas before all we get is Halloween But when your eyes roll back into your head and you try to resurrect what I express and bring me to life through twisting my words that cut like a knife and carve marble stone into gargoyles that guard castle gates In this royal palace where no compass will help you find your way and my thought seem soo far away The feathers fall to the floor The soldiers look down at their weapons realizing they are still little boys but intoxicated now and forced to the realization This is how we raised them to be men with awards for serial killing Of stars and stripes I'm not sure you know what to say