The Story's of Men
I carry with in my will
The story’s of men
A cold winter chill
On a summer day
couldn’t comfort
The story’s of men
I put stride in my fears and walked away my tears
I remember the scent of your hair
Like yesterdays air
I go to sleep
and awaken with the same head ache
In a dead lay
I felt that way sometimes
I don’t talk much
And I don’t listen
Today I stood sound
My heart just thought it stiffened
Most pictures we see are black and white
August for change
Can you see the black in white
At my counterpoint and I’m invisible
A Camelot to her roses
A portrait of warmth in the cold
A poet at best
Her’s at worst
When obscurity was a curse
Relinquishing the scent of an aged piano
The melody it tunes
Century’s of counting souls
Any crisis can turn to an opportunity
What is it in man that looks for what it can’t see
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