Writings

Sometimes I just write stuff. It comes to mind and I write it down for no reason, and for no one other than myself. The words sound nice, I like the way they flow. Here's my latest:

Baby's running with the blues.
He didn't know as a man he'd have to fucking choose.
Oh, oh, oh, but I can't live without you,
Who knew you could live without me?
All you traded in was you fucking sanity.


A woman is conflicted and her lover is damn sure.
They want to have something sacred, but neither of them are pure.
So he just simply runs around unsure of what to do.
While she sits on time and waits for him to simply come unglued.


I had the perfect love affair,
I knew not his name.
I never spoke a word to him but I loved him just the same.
I saw for five long seconds, and I know he saw me.
We parted ways before we ruined what could never be.


"Snap to it, boys," the old man yelled. "Rebels you'll never be. You have to climb to the top before you get the revelry."
"Shut up, old man," they snapped back, sweat stinging in their eyes. "We've no time to argue over useless, petty lies."
"Fine, then," the old man conceded, "take not with you my advice." But to their backs whispered, "I'll see you in the ice."
Those young boys they went a climbing for that was all they knew. One by one the mountain picked them off with a mighty wind that blew.
Sad families gathered to say their last goodbyes while the old man could only bow his head and avoid looking in their eyes.