Patrick Frost | + Follow Poet |
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Sitting There

Sitting there on the wet cold pavement
Here is warm solace from a cold bottle
Preaching the gospel of the destitute
Exploring the vanity of my self defeats 

Anger leads to harmonious frustrations
I’m lying to friends that I don’t really like
These strangers who randomly joined me
To share confidences and profane insight

Tonight there are stories I want to tell you
But no one hears my words, silent they are
Dreams I once felt, they lightened my heart 
Now thoughts that pierce with anxiousness

Times were so different then today’s now
Now was never what I believed would be
A path I thought to take went to somewhere
Not imagined, leading astray, winding away

Quaff the rum and feel the heat in my limbs
Numb my ranting and close my blind eyes
Silence the mute people who talk of nothing
But of failures they embraced to themselves

Should I continue to fight for a pyrrhic victory?
Own the end of the struggle, defined by the road
Or talk about beginnings to start the ending of all
Leaving on this trail, is there another path to take

These Kinetic forces that define my movements
Dancing to fates that hate the songs being sung
Music of remorse, harmony of horn’s cacophony 
The orchestra that’s directed by a fickly conductor

Are these choices made ago, set by today’s reality
Or can the things that I do now be fixed in the past
Is it now time to do the things I want to do tomorrow
Can I stop what was begun by not ending the game?

The remorse of love not taken, not made, not tried
The safety of shelter when nothing is done or risked
Words that aren’t said to people who weren’t listening 
So what is worse, not being who you were not to be?

Tonight, I am going to get drunk and explore my faults
Laugh at those jokes not told and cry from pains not felt
Dream of success not earned and defeats I am proud of
Try to be the man I was before I was a man full grown

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