The rocky roads and cracks in the cement
As i walk up the sidewalk
The crowds of city buses
And cluster pedestrians
My pace begins to hinder
As I look around
At the faceless people
That surround me.
I wonder if they see
The same blank image
Where my face belongs
I walk alone up the path to my destiny
And wonder why these aliens
Who are supposed to be like me
Are nothing like me at all.
They wander down the hill in groups
As I struggle to arrive to the top
AloneI wonder what lies above
Is it even worth this lonely walk
That is known as my fate.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Self Potrait of a Hallway,Bria Scott
Dirty and worn
paper ball here, pencil here
completely covered in tile, various hues of blue
if only I could speak
Sweat and shampoo , is it?
That smell is very much eminent wherever I go
Right here, he did it, he pulled it
And as they shuffle one by one
into me, on me, I surround them
Thy are engulfed as they follow me to their destination
Some run, some walk , talk, some are nervous
Claustrophobia perhaps?
He grabs her ass right there
She tripped you man
I see it all
I know it all
If only I could speak
paper ball here, pencil here
completely covered in tile, various hues of blue
if only I could speak
Sweat and shampoo , is it?
That smell is very much eminent wherever I go
Right here, he did it, he pulled it
And as they shuffle one by one
into me, on me, I surround them
Thy are engulfed as they follow me to their destination
Some run, some walk , talk, some are nervous
Claustrophobia perhaps?
He grabs her ass right there
She tripped you man
I see it all
I know it all
If only I could speak
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)