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- 19
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- Age 32
- Santa Isabel, Mexico
- Seen Jul 7, 2018
Another silly poem! C+C is deeply appreciated.
"MUDMEN"
Here we are, marooned between the lowest heights
Standing still within the stage, cried a million lonely nights.
Oh, must the show go on? Should I turn again the page?
When every dream is over, the memories just age.
And watching as it crumbles down, the stars stopped in the sky
We're reaching out to touch the ground, and laying down to say goodbye.
Oh Diamond, what can you do to keep on shining?
Bars in the window, the result we are declining
Inside this endless trench, my life might be resigning;
But the dream still stays on.
And our eyes can't see reality, who never knew the flush of youth
We are building fears from nothing and crying them over the truth
You can reach nothing with no struggle, you can't rush a growing bud
We are shaped in soothing ways, we are men created from mud.
So life, where are we walking into? The darkest dead-end street
Painted with forgotten hopes and forged with slow defeat
Abandoned in a corner, the dread of reaching oh so far
The pain is gently drowning me, a wound that would not ever scar
To fall, in bitter and in sweet, how could death be so kind
To leave, so empty, incomplete, so much was left behind
Oh cry, what is the next parade?
My mistakes I would never trade,
The curtain closed in gold and clover
The spectacle is over,
But the dream still stays on.
(EDIT: Added the last 10 lines.)
"MUDMEN"
Here we are, marooned between the lowest heights
Standing still within the stage, cried a million lonely nights.
Oh, must the show go on? Should I turn again the page?
When every dream is over, the memories just age.
And watching as it crumbles down, the stars stopped in the sky
We're reaching out to touch the ground, and laying down to say goodbye.
Oh Diamond, what can you do to keep on shining?
Bars in the window, the result we are declining
Inside this endless trench, my life might be resigning;
But the dream still stays on.
And our eyes can't see reality, who never knew the flush of youth
We are building fears from nothing and crying them over the truth
You can reach nothing with no struggle, you can't rush a growing bud
We are shaped in soothing ways, we are men created from mud.
So life, where are we walking into? The darkest dead-end street
Painted with forgotten hopes and forged with slow defeat
Abandoned in a corner, the dread of reaching oh so far
The pain is gently drowning me, a wound that would not ever scar
To fall, in bitter and in sweet, how could death be so kind
To leave, so empty, incomplete, so much was left behind
Oh cry, what is the next parade?
My mistakes I would never trade,
The curtain closed in gold and clover
The spectacle is over,
But the dream still stays on.
(EDIT: Added the last 10 lines.)
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