A Common Thread
Act I – A Fresh Start
Breaths of fresh air under a clear blue sky.
The wind softly sighs as strangers pass by.
But not me, as she and I locked eye to eye.
A magnificent women, beautiful, no reason to deny.
No control of my nerves or my words, I struggle to reply.
She smiles and we talk for awhile. I hated saying goodbye.
We parted ways until a couple days we re-connected.
We traded phone numbers, my wing-man was cupid.
Never-ending conversations all in one text message.
When my parents fought, she was their to heal the damage.
Atlantis was always where she was, so I was always on a voyage.
The Goddess of Love she was, so Aphrodite held my heart hostage.
Deaf I was, advice from my friends I never took.
“She has a good cover, but she's a terrible book.”
Blind I was, their doubt expressed but my head just shook.
“She never gave back to you after all the things she took”
To focused to make a dream a reality so I ignored what they said.
She always made me happy, we shared A Common Thread.
Act II – The Common Thread
Soft laughs and sighs over the telephone.
Our voice's never made us never fell alone.
But it all of it seemed familiar with each milestone.
Doubt had grown, and infected my every bone.
Rushed questions demanding her soul to be shown.
Then she confessed, her past was similar to my own.
Alcoholic fathers and being lonely at a young age.
We both shared the affects of our dad's painful rage.
We both shared the effects of living with loneliness.
A Common Thread was now binding between us.
The face of change soon made it towards our way.
Our silence grew between us each passing day.
Soon she found another person to replace me.
I became clingy and angry, all to make her see what I see.
Desperately, I tried to revive something that was already dead.
I kept holding on to This Weak and Thin Common Thread.
Act III – Acceptance
Alcohol, Cigarettes and Cough Syrup made me numb.
The rhythm of dead silence became our anthem.
By rejecting all my friends wisdom, I felt lonesome.
Prays for my salvation never even reached God's kingdom.
Confusion built steel bars, Why has Aphrodite put me in prison?
So I wrote in poem accepting my fate and their I found freedom.
I left to a third world country, ironically ,in poverty.
The trail and tribulations created a strong hope for of me.
Strangely, all the things that made me numb, came in handy.
Strangely, I became carefree from all the strippers and Brandi.
Pages amongst pages I wrote there, from stories to poetry.
And that marked the end of my self searching journey.
Writing became a passion instead of way to vent.
Dreams of becoming a successful writer came in a instant.
Reminiscing back at all the small words that were once said.
I hope you don't forget me, as I cut Our Common Thread.
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Originally Posted by The Witness.
