Poetry

I walk along
barefoot on glass
feeling the melancholy joy
Of all my pain
Riding to my tomorrow
Eating all the sorrow
To push forward the weight
I carry to the steps of nothing

Back home
where all the boys would laugh and hurt
Stick and stones where common then
Now but words hurt
They're all that matter
Yet all the theories write
and generalize my pain
As nothing but a phase
That will blow away

So I go with the wind
to hide with snow
leaves and grass pillow the fall
And the summer pond cleanses my soul

Back home
the girl pulled my hair and called me weird
Shielded from sticks and stones
The poisoned tongues of yesterday
Sickened my resolve
And I carry my dreamcatcher
to all my tommorows
Protecting my slumber
All that is mine

So the sky becomes my map
In the rain I hide
The moon my guide
Guitar strapped at my side

Back home
My folks told me there was nothing for me
For my strange and different ways
Belt buckle scare on my face
Branded by pain
Expelled fron clean sheets
I roll in dirt
To shed the pain
Of the words that burned killed and murdered
The little bit of light
That carried me

Stars... light my way
Clouds... show direction
Tommorrow... be my oblivion
Today... my revelation
Back home...
Can never be me
Back home
Seasons don't change Ten years down the road
And still I dream of then

-Gate

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