Maybe I'm Crazy
by Stock
Drunk again, slurring my words,
I can’t understand my scream.
Once again I punish myself,
for something that I dared to dream.
My structure is a storyboard, for all to see
My hero is dead and now tears
construct from my eyes.
I hear the hour glass as
my image begins to crack.
Insides are dark as my sins
and my dwell resides now black.
I portray myself a ghost and
stand before you a hollow host.
I am an unfolding image of life
with the volume turned down.
Beneath dim eyes and feet that have danced their last
lies a pain you’ll never know.
Eyes glimmer with tears unshed,
one splashes down a rugged face,
a wrinkled hand slowly brushes the tear away.
When I am gone who shall remember?
Who shall cry if my life is cut short?
When the last soul gone, who shall care?
We should - it was all for us.
Your broken promises soon became my shattered dreams
I write and draw coloured images on my skin,
executed by the fear I live.
My frame I give to you…
pick up the pen, and do what feels true
I am ready to rage a war upon his body,
drawing in fine line, a timeline that will,
help me to seek and define my true self.
So I act as a holder for disapproving stares
I am not theirs, so bit your lip!
I don't expect anyone to understand my life
I want the world to stop turning,
for I am not working anymore.
I wish the sun would go away.
And life outside my room to stop,
then everyone to lock themselves away,
I want everyone to weep.
So, all of them all know what I lack,
I want the rain to flood the river, lake and stream,
then I can see the clouds cry like me.
At the end of the day
I break my jaw to present a smile
I am a hidden creature in a body of colours
the young man,
with arms full of faces of pasted lovers!
Crazy, who knows?