Foreign blue

Yadda yadda
Foreign tounge
Never know
When your praise is sung
Or your condemned.
Yip yap, yip yap,
A slap in the face you never feel
A numb emptiness
Making your body tired
Trying to make ends meet
Adapting words to what you know.
Yapedia yopoodia
A whole new encyclopedia
Stressed to limitlessness
In a constant lonely state
Smoke another another cigarette
Stare at your shoes
Back in the foreigner blues.

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rage

Learnt twice about the burning

Burnt twice without the learning;

Insanity calls me now

by name

Home away from home.

Setting sun neon glow
Heather blooms in ditches
Air beneath my drifting smoke
A tourist to my hometown.

I miss your open plain
Simplicity free from a world
Of incantricinsy
A world of infants in infancy
Best to not know better
An innocence encompassed by said pleasures of not knowing different,
Knowing the difference isn't so much netter.

The difference between a hand knit and store bought sweater.

The trees are green on both sides of the fence.

Apprehensive my apprectiation is superficial observing only what the
heart is longing to see, devoid of the layered reality.

A peice of peace declared that is unjustified but found in the
resounding need to find.

Polite without policy, free with fear and gossip on a adders tounge,
rungs of ladders leading nowhere, confusion, obstacles, the game of
every one every day.

Purpose proposed but no know, speculation, ejaculation, consternation,
posturizing and dying.

Slipping from the unforseen to the being and was; drawn endlessly
never free of the ciclical sythe; a humanity in the eye of forever and
everywhere.

This time ours recieved and given until.

Home sweet dreams.

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