#thislonelypoet

[thislonelypoet]

I suppose what I want most

Is to know what the hell i need.

[thislonelypoet]

Nothing hurts more than mourning someone

Who isn't dead.

[thislonelypoet]

it wasn't until I looked up

and watched the stars burst

that I knew then

you were the darkness,

not the thing so beneign

nor as bright or hopeful

as the many of the night.

[thislonelypoet]

Why do i constantly look in the mirror

Just to hate what I see.

As if you'd ever change.

[thislonelypoet]

Why does this timeline feel

Inadequate for my needs

Why can't I walk a cobblestone street

Into a building, with pillars neat

Be greeted with a hearth so warm

My coat is thus, forlorn

When a cup of black is most sweet

And bells rung upon the street

The horses clop amongst the rubble

Of the groups of girls that giggle and muddle

When books of new parchment smelt most fresh

Of pines and woods of forests kept

A cigarette smoke that lofts past

Amongst the grey skies of past

It must be Europe that I speak of

In an age when books were made of

Intelligent young folk, making their way in the world

When a future was promised

A meaning meant well

Now tis a boring age, of white walls

Squared and plain

With sidewalks smooth like polished stone

Not a chip, nor crack, nor crevice known

All but straight and perfect now

Nor buildings high and intricate in detail

Nor horses that pull a carriage in avail

Nay, a cigarette as rare as the time of day

Of a walk less brisk than made today

Not a coffee made with loves bitter sweet

Oh I dream of walking a cobblestone street.

[thislonelypoet]

Oh sweet rain

Falling so rhapsodically

Get off me.

[thislonelypoet]

The heart feels so full

When there is love, peace

And so empty when nothing but

Nothing at all, sits and feasts,

Though pumping with blood

A red burn'ed beast

This heart beats, relentlessly.

[thislonelypoet]

Sometimes all a girl needs

Is a wine, movie, and something

Cuddly.