I am yet to understand what it's like to understand
Why my life is where it's at is some thing I'm yet to comprehend
Why when I look into the mirror, I begin to feel weak as a man
My thoughts drain from my mind and my knees buckle as I stand
I rest in silence, overwhelmed by the slightest sound
And in the midst of a crowd, I feel there's nobody around
I don't have a voice to speak, but I wouldn't even if I could
I'm alone on this road, so I choose a beanie and a hood
Because we're immediately good, when we're judged and we're questioned
A hug? I reject it, I'm neither an option nor a selection
Ill ignore your request if, I'm going to be neglected
So this is what I have stepped in, to penetrate your protection
Why am I not accepted, I'm an out cast, not a freak
A work in progress, an empty canvas saturated in ink
And these thoughts that I think, allow me to write what is life
Encrypted in metaphors, in the darkness the mind is light
© Aaron Guttery
Categories:
guttery, art, truth, word play,
Form: Rhyme
Its something else isn't it, the time that I waste
A crack in the hourglass, I can feel time sifting away
I understand that I'm ignorant, and its my time now isn't it?
This wall, why am I hitting it, why am I living belligerent?
It's impossible to think, every time I hear a thought
And there's nobody who relates, because nobody knows at all
The passion and pain in the harmony, so when you feel I've built a wall
Understand that I have and I could never let that building fall
And if you can barely crawl, then how can you expect me to stand
Your life accomplishments will never make me less of a man
If I could conjure up the courage to submit to the blessing at hand
Maybe I could learn to breathe again, and my chest could expand
Maybe I'm less of a person to you or your dimwitted friends
Because when submitted to scrutiny, I'm loose at the ends
The ideas tied up in a knot, and I'm loosing my grip
I need to redeem my imagination before the illusion ends
(C) ~ Aaron Guttery ~ 5/31/14
Categories:
guttery, childhood, imagination, word play,
Form: Rhyme
The first smell of rain hitting city walls
Before slipping down into guttery streams
Heavy drops splattering layers of ashes and dirt
Causing clouds to clot in noses of newly wet children
Wet soot snots that run so black memories keep coming back
Like scabs on bare and dirty knees
Or fog enveloping invading nostrils
Condensing eyelids blinding sight
Muffling sound and squeezing light
Hiding the world in the wetness
Of a cloud too heavy to fly
Carrying smells of sea salt and tar
Smoke of smouldering coal fires
Rolls off wet tile rooftops to mingle
With the soapy smell of Monday
Categories:
guttery, history, nature, places, social,
Form: I do not know?, I do not know?