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Old 07-09-2003, 10:51 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Post missin childhood

swept through cold winter towns
from the crib to carrying the crown
once before and still now
i wish that what i knew then i knew now
i once flew but now i drive
i once knew how it felt to be alive
decades past but the same
different players in a similar game
used to laugh, grin, and play
now just pass the hours of the day
comfortably killing ourselves
wihtout knowing what the story tells
I miss being invincible
confusing the world, straying the sencible
sitting on summer clouds, melting in the rain
cuts and bruises are what caused me pain
monsters and the coming dark
none of those left a mark
take me back to then
with no worries of being men
to the random moment of joy
where Im not a man, but just a boy.
"The vagabond that's rapping at your door
is standing in the clothes that you once wore."

Bob Dylan

". . . No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence, - that which makes its truth, its meaning - its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream - alone. . . ."

~Joseph Condrad, Heart of Darkness.
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Old 07-09-2003, 11:43 PM   #2 (permalink)
Local Pot P.I.M.P.
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VERY nice bro.

I have had similar thoughts lately of just wanting to be a boy again, and was going to write a poem about it, but I could not describe it any better than you just did, keep up the good work
~I smoke so much weed call me Mr. Ganja~

"I ain't a killer but don't push me, revenge is like the sweetest joy next to gettin pussy" - 2pac
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Old 07-12-2003, 09:26 PM   #3 (permalink)
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I like this.
"Why is it that when people talk to God, we call it praying but when God talks to people, we call it crazy?"- Touched by an Angel
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Old 07-14-2003, 11:58 PM   #4 (permalink)
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great poem dood!
Minds are like parachutes, they're useless until open.
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