The World Is Loud, Without You
She was beautiful
like a full moon in a dark sky,
Nothing to hold on to,
nothing to do or die.
Crying and smiling
she made the world go round,
till death did us apart,
now I sit on this cold park bench,
hoping one day the past will go too.
I haven't heard anything from her,
no letters, no telephone call,
not even a visit.
On dirt roads is where we walk,
and on cold park benches is where we talk
seal our deals with kisses and hugs,
simple talks of life and days passed in bedrooms
in kitchens we read about the world burning,
but in your words it was all alright,
and I could sleep good knowing you were right there.
Under trees
and childhood tire swings
we laughed and smiled
as our moms and dads called us in,
we laughed and promised to see each other again.
Now the world is too loud,
I can't listen to radio without getting sick,
I can't watch the television without wanting to cry,
The worlds on fire, and baby
all I want is for you to put out the flames.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2016
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