Tag: lament

Passive

Loving you wasn't something I did; it was something that happened to me.

Could You Write Me a Song?

Write me a song, Just promise it's not about love. Yeah, write me a song About sadness or madness, Or drunken what-have-its Or drugs. Recall all the sad things; The inane little ramblings Of poems and songs You would write all day long And the tears. Oh, just eight months ago, When your life was ...

A Useful Idiot

A useful idiot Does not even know How useful he is, Does not even know How idiotic he is, Does not even know Until he is no longer useful. A useful idiot Does not even know He is being used; A useful idiot. A useful idiot Does not even know How useful he ever was. ...

Scarborough Nights

When I lay in bed at night And at last can rest my eyes, I still can hear the humming, Of the TV Lounge’s lights. I still can feel the leather, And the pleasant scent of fries. And as I drift away, I still recall the Scarborough Nights. What a silly room it was, But ...

A Stranger’s Lament

I made a friend today; We danced in the sunlight Bathed in our own joy. I carried her to the garden; And rested her on the soil. I thought to myself; Who would I be without you? I lost a friend today; We ran in the darkness Bathed in our own blood. I carried her ...

Days of Skype

Do you remember the Days of Skype? When I was happy to be alive? When our APM set us up again To stay up every night? Do you remember the screams of rage? From the silly games we played? When 4 AM wasn't all that late, 'cause the Cole Train had no brakes? Do you ...

Day Four Hundred and One

Four Hundred and One days have passed since last the word of “love” was shining. Since my heart felt full and warm, with no thought that things were dying or declining. Three Hundred Eighty-Seven suns since last our hands had touched. T’is that duration when last I felt close enough for someone to see me ...

Diane

Diane, Diane. With locks of golden blonde, With cheeks of rosy red, I'm vain you've come and gone. Diane, my sweet; I long to learn and know, Why it's me who's sitting here again, And why you had to go. Diane, with wings of white; I sit again tonight, Asking–begging–please, my friend, Can I make ...