Lyric People Poems

These Lyric People poems are examples of Lyric poems about People. These are the best examples of Lyric People poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |
Come an' pick yerself an apple,

Come an' pick a heapin' load;

Come an' pick a bloomin' bushel

An' a couple fer the road.


There's a dozen different sizes,

Pink an' yella, red 'r lime,

Shades that match the pale sunrises

Of the apple pickin' time.


Go an' make an apple pie,

Make it thirty miles high,

Then you'll be in apple heaven

Till the day you up an' die.


Come an' pick yerself an apple,

Come an' pick a heapin' load;

Come an' pick a bloomin' bushel

An' a couple fer the road;


Some for Gran and Uncle Pete,

An' a few fer fighting crime;

'Cause the fella down the street

Knows it's apple pickin' time.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013




Details | Free verse |
How far can you fall and get back up 
How high can you jump
And keep your feet in the sand 

To touch grace and fall from within
Next to you I was out of my skin
I missed you yesterday and you leave tomorrow

A life spent in the shadows of lushly tint 
Smoke your waves 
Exhale the freshness of your menthol scent 
Home is what you call shelters that need no defense 

I’ll send 
You’ll say goodbye
I’ll send again
You won’t reply

If love 
Is the appreciation of another’s existence
Then goodbye
Is the anticipation of seeing you again

You and I, we’ll cruise the shores
Together we’ll settle with the wind 
The joy of a small hut, a lovers den

You’ll send
I’ll wonder why
You’ll send again
I will not reply 

"our songs for sale"

Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric |
I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.

I want to be inspired to find
    a cure for this cancer thing;
I want to be inspired to reach
    out for the golden ring;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at getting by
            with the good old college try.

I want to be inspired to lead
    a revolutionary coup;
I want to be inspired to be
    the best at everything I do;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        to make ends meet
            and not live on the street.

I have the motivation;
I’ll put in the perspiration;
I can give it concentration;
But, I lack the inspiration;

Inspire me.
What will it take to inspire me?

I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.

Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011




Details | Lyric |


Somehow in the late of nighttime, a wooden door's front lantern brings me to a table where strangers from a distant tavern grow more animated with a litany of stories and ramblings inscribed on their life’s hinges. Varied tones reminisce detailed inlays of personal anthologies framing their eyes with joy or regret, etched by languid memories as I listen to orations of wise men and laborers where intimacies are safe inside a door... each one relating a brew of sentiments over mugs of ale and wine. Just then, I hear my own man’s language reflected through the crowd’s noises, piercing my flesh with a tinge of awareness... while opening the doorknob, I begin to search for him under a vault of moonbeam, reminded now of the times I forget to understand his longing to connect with me ,to embrace his thoughts deeply in silence...without question or restraint. --------- 6/21/2015 rob carmack's Screwed V Theme: door

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015

Details | Lyric |
Orphaned footsteps round the old place.
Pitch black soil, packed deep with bartered
coin and Indian heads – wood and otherwise,

coat her worn leather shoes, Hutterite chic. 
The long land screams within its own silence.
Prairie sage burns somewhere, a ghostly smudge

for the undulating grass and, those it serves.
Its alive scent makes the dead turn towards 
its head - and the barely living turn to listen. 

The impossibly endless horizon holds its bright 
blue at bay, begging acknowledgement for 
its self-professed being and looming enormity.

She looks at the broken window glass and 
through the tattered, delicate gray lace. “Those 
were hers.” She whispers to the one who listens. 

This great-great-granddaughter sees the curtains 
as they once were – wistful in the hot Manitoba 
wind; fresh and lowing with the honest elemental 

scent of aspens, hope and bare-knuckle wash boards; 
always fresh; shifting in the cry for solace in summer 
shadows – never as still as this moments endlessness.

Blowing through the deep brown of splintered pine 
front doors; cracking the announcement of cast iron, 
rot and burnt wood comes the simple statement of – 

I lived. This mother of five young does not cry, 
just yearns to walk in the old ones footsteps;
to know them loved; hear the birdsong through

unbroken bedroom windows for a 5am waking; 
feel the resistance of dough on fingers that beg 
to be broken, and kiss the twisting undead, living. 


The burning of the noonday sun taps her whole,
marking; branding her pale Swedish skin its own.
The red sting of burnt breaks her inward silence, 

welcoming her familiar face home.




© Kristin Reynolds 3 29 2009

*Reposted for John's Summer Celebration Contest. This is a personal celebration; 
celebrating and honoring my great grandparents who settled in Manitoba after leaving 
Sweden and Denmark. This celebrates the summer of family, at least for me. We went there 
every summer until it was gone...

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rispetto |
How I admire the lyrical poetess!
She, who watches nature's beauty all around,
yearns to feel the wind of summer's soft caress
as she listens for the magic in its sound.

When she sits to write in peaceful, quiet hours,
from her realm of thought spring forth. . .  pretty flowers
She plucks up each bright blossom, then sets them free
as blooms of the lyrics in her poetry.

(This is dedicated to my lyrical poetess friends at soup, of
whom there are more than a few!)

For "A Soup Member Worthy of a Tribute" Poetry contest
of Richard Lamoureux

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |
My piety,my poetry ,my love
All are in vain
my music, my love ,my mind
All are running insane

My rhymes are all crooked
I can't write a perfect song
Looks like my life is worthless
my music, my poetry its all gone

Behold the paradox,
In these old rhymes 
living in a worthless life 
All these times 

The music's almost over
just need to turn out the light
I need just one leap
Need to show on last fight

I need to create something
something that makes you feel
the goal isn't to live forever
Its to create something that will

Copyright © anbes rawal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

I have a singing friend
he is my hairdresser
He lives a simple life
Wondering if tomorrow
will bring the sorrows and worries
A small place to stay, together
with his old and sick mother 
Food on the table to day
but what about tomorrow


I have a singing friend
he is my hairdresser
He think a lot and he
worries about the future
The sun is shining but he do
not know what tomorrow will bring


I have a singing friend
he is my hairdresser
He sing in a language
I do not understand
He sings about love,
passion and romance
Eyes smiling as he sings,
but the face is still not happy


I have a singing friend
he is my hairdresser
He is amazing with his
scissors and comb
He makes me feel so beautiful
Smiles at me in the mirror
and sing a little bit more
Happiness is now
but what will the future brings
my singing hairdresser friend







to - Diyarli Cuu
Written in Turkey
17.July.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |
She remains a partial gift
some have none, yet some have much
for her scales, sideways they tilt
yet we crave her soothing touch.

With jars of scents, ointments and creams
ourselves we paint seeking her face
fanciful, our grotesque masks seems
yet she stays mocking our ways.

But true beauty in these things lie;
the morning dew on thirsty leaves
the new-born sun that's up so high
even in Nature's smiles on lonesome cliffs!

Copyright © Edward Babatunde | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |
Thugs in the street with their pants hung low
White T's and Tims with two golds in the front row
Philly fades or braids, du-rags, and fitted hats
Sweat towls around the neck 
Baseball caps turned to the back

See some people would call them hoodrats 
because of where they live at
Not knowing the situation 
Seeing the problem 
Or trying to give back
Instead they just judge the book by it's cover
Instead of calling the book your brother

See if we don't stick together 
And if we don't love each other
And stop calling us women B's and Hoes
for we all know that's not the way love goes

So black people lets take a stand 
Reach out and touch your brothers hand
Lets make this world an equal place
Because we've proved that we can

Copyright © Tiffanie McCall | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |
Little Coffee House 

It’s the coffee counter line-up
A conveyor belt of people 
Ready for their little treat
A little piece of comfort
From their favorite beanery
I strum as I watch them 
My guitar like an old friend
They should say hello to -
But they never do 
   
Little Coffee House
My band’s playing for you
But what do you do
You just want want want your cups
Your little coffee mugs
So move up to the front

Funky-spiked hair dude
Jokes with the worker
He leans on the counter
(I think that he likes her) 
But people are waiting
And he’s hesitating
So all the shoe tappers  
Start to harass him -
Hurry up and pick one fast

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just need need need your cups
Your little coffee mugs
And that little coffee buzz  

I look around the room
There’s a girl in a red shirt 
Looking out of the window 
She sips on a latte -
I think she’s an artist
She lays out her sketchbook
But she doesn’t start to draw 
She turns to face the wall –
What are we doing wrong?

We don’t have to be inspiration
But how ‘bout entertainment?
Are we a distraction?
I can’t help but asking 
Are we an invasion 
Of the air?

Little Coffee House
We’re playing for you
But what do you do
You just sip sip sip your cups
Your little coffee mugs
Not listening to us

There’s a man on a laptop
There’s a girl reading Sherlock
There’s a guy on a cell phone
A boy eating Jell-O 
I want them to look up
If they’d look up they’d see us
Are we so bad we should shut up?
Because I feel like we just suck -
I feel like we’re not even here
We’re jamming 
To inattentive ears 

Oh Little Coffee House
I feel I’m at a loss
We’re playing here for you
But what do you do
Your busy coffee mouths
Keep sippin’ till it’s out
If only you’d listen
You’d hear what you’re missin’
We’re not
Just another gig 
Someday, we’ll make it BIG

Sip sip sippin’ cups
Those little coffee mugs
Sip ‘em till they’re out
Little Coffee House


Copyright © Black Eyed Susan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |
I have come to accept the possibility
that I, myself, may be partially to blame       (my compost pile of shame)   

that I may have stroked the very wheel         (unable to feel)
that, set in motion, is the cause of
so much pain                                             (unsheltered in the rain)

Silently suffering through endless winters      (embers, cinders)
without anticipation of Spring                       (hope an ethereal thing)
                                                               
blind to Mother Earth's gifts                         (tenuous unfelt shifts)
the colors, the scents of her blossoms          (habitually playing possum)
deaf to the melodies of the birds                 (knowledge lost, language
                                                                        unheard)                 
as they sing

She calls to me but my barriers are thick      (mentally stunted, physically sick)
densely scarred and wounded                        (as I am, to the quick)

As the sludge chokes the seabirds               (screaming their lost words)
and the fishes                                           (murdering Piscean wishes)
as Her forests are cleared by those
both greedy and vicious
I feel Mother Earth tremble                          (demons assemble)
beneath my feet
hear Her sigh as I place a hesitant finger     (shaking, letting it linger)
on Her weakened pulse
thready and irregular
We are killing Her, Mother Earth,
mother of us all, matricide                          (no longer can we hide)
listen, listen to Her heartbeat...

I may have stroked the very wheel...        

Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |
This isn't just a poem This isn't just another emotion This is me, these are my thoughts The Imagery is my sight, And The Allegories are my Life I'm lonely, There is just me But there's so many people around but no one can hear my loudest screams Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me I'm torn, I'm Cut Part of my heart stabbed, and then taken from me The Search for my innocence, Is like a moa hunt Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Laughing and Jokes all directed towards me Just to Hurt me Cover all of the Halls "Fag, Emo, Queer" Words I too often know Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me Curling her hair putting on her makeup "You're worthless and nothing to Me" Says the so-called all-loving-one As she screams: "Why am I not Pretty" Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me This is not just a poem not just some words my pen cries with each words But this is Just a Glimpse Don't Shout nor Scream This is all just Normal To Me

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |
Invisible ladies! You see them ev’rywhere,
In sensible raincoats and Margaret Thatcher hair.
Standing at bus-stops, watching the bus go by:
Waiting at crossings,
Letting the traffic splatter mud in their eyes …

Invisible ladies, all in their “middle years”.
Invisible ladies:
No hopes, but so many fears …

   SO polite! So ladylike!
   Just don’t mind us, don’t make a fuss … Wouldn’t be right …
   But deep inside, there’s such a rage …
   You’ll catch it too, this vanishing plague
   Called MIDDLE AGE!

Invisible ladies … shopping bags all akimbo:
Moving like zombies, each in her private limbo.
Pushing a trolley at ASDA or Sainsbury:
Examining prices,
Searching for bargains – ever more desp’rately …

Invisible ladies, choosing the longest queue …
The one with the baby:
Babies, they’re visible to …

   SO polite! So ladylike!
   Just don’t mind us, don’t make a fuss … Wouldn’t be right …
   But deep inside, there’s such a rage …
   You’ll catch it too, this vanishing plague
   Called MIDDLE AGE!
	
Invisible ladies! When somebody barges by,
Instead of complaining, they always apologise!
They oughta get angry, and maybe get pushy too:
Say, “HEY! Look AT me!
See, I’m a PERSON, really very like you!”

Invisible ladies, everyone knows one …
They live in our houses …
You probably call yours “MUM!”





(This is an anthem for all fifty-somethings - Chaps too!)


Copyright © Frances King | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric |
They are all in my head, all day and all night
I hear them talking, telling me something's not right
They come from all directions, my ears never rest
recalling words from the ones I thought I knew best

My family my friends, those closet to me, telling
me things I refuse to see.
They've been buried within so long and so deep
like angry little children refusing to sleep

Some yell loudly, some whisper soft
they speak of the times and the dreams that were lost
and all these times I've refuse to hear, from people
and places I held so dear.

I've been so let down, my pride has been shattered
My heart has been broken, as if I didn't matter
It's a harsh lesson these voices within
makes me realize I've only one true friend
Thank you lord for opening my eyes, to people
that hurt me and tell me lies.
God's comfort and love will pull me through
from all the bad things these voices do.

Copyright © Betty Culberson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric |
I'm Agonizing every Word that my mind Creates You've done this all to me release your wrath to Me You wonder How much a Human Heart can take I've reached the limit You've invaded me on every level none of this is Mine anymore I can't bleed enough for You We're through This, This Torture Homicidal With You Suicidal Without You Feel Free to abuse If it's you I won't lose The Winds push away The Vines pull forth I'm at a lose on what to do So very lost and Confused Don't say we're through Homicidal With You Suicidal Without You I Hate you ...Don't leave me I push you so far away But need you so close I'm on the edge you're all I really need I'll do anything Just don't Abandoned me leaving has it's toll Homicidal With You Suicidal Without You

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |
Are you one of life's many players?
Wearing a mask so others can't see;
Hiding feelings, won't let them show,
Absent from what reality might be.

Do you go through life supposing?
That you're the master of your life's all;
But when things in life are amiss,
It's then upon God you call.

Do you often reminisce things done?
Perhaps from a time when weak;
Because we've all worn this mask,
and of these things won't speak.

I've oft thought that I'm two people,
To most, my feelings I won't show.
The hurt that lies within,
I wear my mask so others won't know.








Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric |
October speaks of death, I hope now she can rest,
And lay the soaring bird on down.
Underneath her clothes, only herself she loathed.
We've seen this done before. 

Together they manifest their cause, ripping with their claws,
Tearing flesh and bone.
From the shame inside swelling at her sides,
She broke herself on stones. 

And the monsters say "There's on her to blame,
With many heads we only think the same".
When no words of solace leave our lips,
I can tell you the world will end like this,
Under the Eclipse. 

All around they slayed and left where she laid
To bleed out all her wrongs.
And now that she's gone, over with and done,
Her memories all they play. 

She can show you how people lose their sanity.
She can show you how the world has lost humanity.
Those who turned their eyes, this has only you to blame.
To console yourself you say "Oh what a shame".
I can tell you how the world will end like this,
Under the Eclipse,
Under the Eclipse.

Wool across my eyes,
Shields me from this life.
Every single thread
Coating what they said.

Every drop of rain
Lights a candle in
Memory of the one
Who burned for others fun. 

She can show you how people lose their sanity.
She can show you how the world has lost humanity.
Those who turned their eyes, this has only you to blame.
To console yourself you say "Oh what a shame".
I can tell you how the world will end like this,
Under the Eclipse,
Under the Eclipse.

Where is the sun?
Where is the sun?

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |
Never said yes
And no chance to say no
Both inebriated
So you thought that was the chance for you to go

No violence from what I remember
I woke up in the midst
Too messed up to say a word
Or know the order of events

I dont even know the face
I only thought it was you
And you say it was him, too
My self feels so displaced

Should've paid attention to the signs 
But was too naive
Invite me somewhere unfamiliar
And use the tricks up your sleeve

Just to get off
You shatter the outlook of a young girl
Just to get off 
You put a curtain over my world

Due to your ill wishes and your sickness
I was too dumb to speak
Too embarrassed, too ashamed
I thought it was defeat

After one realization came another
Eventually, nothing is at it seems
While growing up you're given lessons
With age wisdom gets more keen

I can forgive but won't forget
I've also gained through your deception
I've learned not to lose all hope through this
Uninvited infection

Copyright © JustcallMe Britt | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |
I sat in a porch rocker and looked
Watching star bursts of wonder
Sparks with flair in the evening sky
Streams of light moving in splendor
So beautiful one must say, “oh my!”

I sat in a porch rocker and looked
As the grand orchestra played away
Sweet melody makes me give a sigh
Music and light blending a display
Horns and trumpets blasting high

I sat in a porch rocker and looked
Watching fireworks over the bay
Music rocking with soft thunder
Such a sight for ending a fine day
A celebration without a blunder

I sat in a porch rocker and looked!

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
Sung to the great single: "Loves Me Like A Rock." from There Goes Rhymin' Simon. (1975.)

(Half heard :)
The camera's got to be rolling, man. It's got to be rolling... Gospel Chorus: “ Ahhwoo…
Well, I'm running, yes I am. (Running, yes, he is!)
And I'm asking all of you. (Asking all of you.)
Now tell me, are you? ( Are you?)
Are you better than you were before? (Much Bet-ter than before.)
My opponent's had his chance. (He has had his chance.)
And I'm here to tell you straight and true
He's failed you. He's failed you.
He'll stand there and say I'm wrong
But you all know that I'm right (Yeahhh.)
It's got to be so plain and simple
That he's wrong.  (Ohhh, he's wrongggg.)

So, let me promise here and now (promise here and now.)
That I'll do what I say I'll do. (Promise what I'll do.)
For I tell you people, who does (Whooo.)
Who does he think he's fooling? (Who does he think he's fooling?)
He'll tell you everything he's done. (Everything he's done.)
But if you care to look up his whole record
There's just nothing. There's nothing. (AAAhhh...)
He'll argue and scream and plead
But you just know that he is wrong. ( Ahhhh.)
The facts and figures tell his story.
That's he's just wronggg.  (He’s wrong, he’s wrong.)

And if I should be elected now. (Yes, elect him now.)
The minute the people call my name. (People call my name.)
You know that I hear you! (HEARRR.)
Hear every word you're saying! (Hear every word you say!)
Just ask for anything you want! (Anything you want!)
Because I'm just a town hall a-way from you.
I hear you! I hear you! ( Yeahhh!)
I'm eager to preen and please
Because you know.. I'm here for you! (Yeahhhh.)
I represent the people truly,
I hear you! (Hears you, yes, he does.)
You all must  know that I can hear you! 3x   (Hears you, yes, he does!)   3x
Hear you every day and night now.
Hear you, yes I do!  (Oh yes, he does!)   (Repeat in staggered cadence and FADE OUT.)
(Insert Howard Dean yelp or yelps here!)
Hear you, yes I do! Hear you, yes I do!  Whoop!
Hear you every night and day, now, hear you! Yes I do! (Repeat and FADE OUT :)

Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |
There's something between us.
However, I can't  name it.
I only know it's priceless
And can be bitter or sweet.

There's something between us
Though we both still disown it,
It's a feeling of sadness
When my heart weeps in secret.

And it brings joy and passion,
I love it and I hate it.
Like castaways on the ocean,
We wander about and drift. 

It gives hope, light, or tears.
Invisible to the eye,
It's between us for years.
I know it will never die.

Copyright © Jolanta Gradowicz | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
To lie is like a seed being planted into the soil,
and just waiting for it’s down roots.
Every time another lie is told this seed gets water,
as the watering continues, the seed begins to grow.
And up sprouts the plant, the plant in which you the individual has given life to, for 
this seed is not a flower, is not a tree, is not a fruit to give to thee, but a weed, a 
weed of such destruction that destroys all other life surrounding it. By taking it’s 
roots, the roots of pure loving flowers, pure loving fruit and pure loving small 
trees.
Destroys them.
Strangles them.
As this weed continues to get watered it shuns them, grows taller then them, 
allows them no sun light, allows them no room to grow or to breath, so in the 
end, they parish.
And all of the truth that was planted before this has died, and the only thing left in 
your garden,
Is your pathetic life.
And this weed,
That was once a SEED. 
 

Copyright © alan seeley | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
You see her smile, and she seems alright.
But what you don’t see is that she is crying inside
You think if she is sad, why doesn't she shed a tear? 
Maybe showing emotion is her biggest fear. 
She doesn't want people to see something is wrong. 
All she wants is for people to think her heart is strong. 
She doesn't want to know what others might say, 
If she just broke out in tears one day. 
Just remember what goes up must come down 
And a smile can easily cover up a frown. 
This girl, if you cannot see, 
Is no one other than me. 

Copyright © Kelsey Kopec | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |
Love notes 
Wordings from the heart
That I’m trying to use 
To cover this scented stationery
With my ball point scribbler, I’m proud 
To match the sensual scent 
Of your lovely and fiery lips
With crimson thoughts, but as I finally come 
To end my writings, after so many pages 
Hooked thrown into a silent bin 
I begin to wonder if it’s better to recite
My love notes to you in person
For this way you would feel 
Much, much better…
The bubbling rhythm 
Of my heart


  

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
Cast attention on the dreams we have caught
They’re nothing of our own
Filtering our hearts right through the dark
Until we give in to the unknown

Casting lights upon the pointless death
In the wars that we’ve become
It’s so sad to see what will really die
The part we kill because we run

Cast attention on the lies we create
Manifesting every fear
Will these walls protect me from the pain?
Will the static drive the tears?

Casting lights upon the obvious truth
That we can’t remember love
Because every notion that we think is right
Was not handed from above

Cast our questions into timeless stone
It’s time to walk away
Step again into the lonely dark
It’s time to feed the pain

Casting spells that only weave an end
This is what we’ve become
Friendly faces that will kill again
We’re just a mirror with a gun

Copyright © Ian Petch | Year Posted 2008

Details | Lyric |
I found out today you had never been true
You were with someone else when I was seeing you.
You took my love, my heart, my trust
And all it meant to you was lust.

I found out today that you gave her a ring
While talking with me about the same thing
And pledged your vows and made her your wife
And swore to stay with her the rest of your life.

Was it just a race?  Was it just a game?
Did either of us matter or were we just the same?
Did you really care which one of us said yes first?
Here I thought when you left me you had done your worst.

I found out today the ink was not yet dry
On the decree from your previous lie.
I was just one of many, a face in your crowd
Being duped by you does not make me proud.

I found out today I will get over you
I will hold my head high, I will get through
You have made me a skeptic, you have opened my eyes
I will not so easily fall for men's lies.

One day if I chance to see you on the street
If our paths should cross, if our eyes should meet
I'll forget the deceptions, the lies you would say
I'll remember the truth that I found out today.



Copyright © Pegi Price | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |
Can I kill the pain today?
Just make it all go away?
Can I breathe again today?
Just make it all seem so far away?
Yesterday is over
The past is dead
Why is it so hard to get that through my head?
All the sleepless nights spent thinking about you,
and how you made me smile
All the sleepless nights spent wishing
that you could have stayed for just awhile

Copyright © Daron Long | Year Posted 2007

Details | Lyric |
I was born beautiful
But…deformed by men
Lead me the way… 
To humanity

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2006

Details | Lyric |
Everytime I close my eyes we kiss,
Even though there is an ocean between us 
my mind always seems to find you. 
Sometimes I catch you brushing your teeth or
washing your hair. The times I remember most are 
when I find you starring into the night thinking of me
remembering times we spent together. 
I close my eyes often and share a brief moment in time with you.
For those are the times that drive me. You are the gas and I am the car
Fully loaded with love trying to make it down this bumpy road called life.
I only pray you dont leave me stranded......
But how could you when you need me as I need you~
I close my eyes now and see you sitting there at your desk reading this
thinking of me with an angelic smile across your face. 
You know I wrote this for and about you.........
and for that reason I will always live inside you.
Simply close your eyes.....

Copyright © John Cornell | Year Posted 2007