Michael Romero Poet Ballade

In My Hands Is My Head.

I can't seem to get over this filling,
  sure every one losses every one falls,
at this moment some thing is missing.

I'm tiered ,I'm drained,
  my head is pounding,
I fill lost in this game.

I need that phone call,
  fills like I need that love,
I miss you that's all.

Superman is what was said,
  a fairy tail, in the real world,
in my hands is my head,

No one to talk to no one to see,
  lost as time stands still,
that's me,

Need a moment to regroup,
  need time to think,
need time on poetry soup.

What would you say,
  how would you know,
there is no other way.

Seams like years sence we were there,
  seams like yesterday I saw you,
I wish...nothing compares.

Mom's time ,
  mom's moment,
a moment hard to find,

Let me catch my breath,
  let me pick myself up,
let me put this to rest,

Moving on without a word from you I dread,
  like you I will finish this dance,
for now in my hands is my head.

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