Vertical Lines
Don't forget to cross the Ts
and dot your Is
because if you don't do that
they're just lines vertical on a page.
Lets us forget about the imperfect words
that make us cry
the vertical lines,
like jail bars hold us back.
Stand up and out and roar like a lion!
she is mine, I love her,
but I am quiet,
held back by the vertical lines
the black oily jail bars,
that keep my hear caged in
everytime I cry and people don't listen
the guard taps his nightstick upon
the vertical bars,
the imperfect feelings of pain and sadness
feeling like this it bores me
feeling like this makes me sick
and I feel myself wanting to vomit
and shake the nervous feeling
of falling into a dark hole,
so I sit behind these vertical lines,
like cocaine lines, ready to snort up your nose,
like cigarettes lined in a perfect and neat row,
like empty wine and beer bottles
littering around my feet.
The vertical lines take me away from reality,
close my already blinded eyes
with a black blindfold.
These jail bars cross my soul,
chain my the ankles and wrists,
and choking me, holding my head under water,
I can't breath!!! Help me!
These vertical bars hold me back in life,
hold my emotions from coming out,
to tell you how I feel for you!
I no more want vertical lines,
I want to be free.
Drive horizontal roads that wined and turn around beautiful mountains
too take a deep breathe and share the beauty
to watch the horizontal horizon.
Too sit on a beach shore and write till the sun goes down
and the mermaids sings cheerful tunes
that uplift my spirits and break the remaining vertical lines
that bind and hold my heart in place.
There is nothing beautiful in a straight line,
let alone a vertical one.
Horizontal, vertical all bad in their own ways,
always trapping us, like jail bars or barbwire that streches across the open lands.
Love has no lines,
no boundaries,
so why should I have lines that bind me together
holding my head underwater,
till a spark lights a powder keg and blows me sky high
and I finally set myself free
and roam the horizon for ever.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
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