Poems · writing

Some People


Some people think it’s all a dream
Southern lights and fairy whispers
Some people say they don’t understand why
You grope around in darkness and crib about light
Some people think that songs and magic
Are wounded beasts, just preying on your soul
Some people will have you cut to the bone
And piled in a heap sky-high

Some people think that smoke and dust
Are beautifully enigmatic and mysteries untorn
Some people think that lying inebriated
You count a dozen stars and catch none
Some people think that love and lust
Are torn pages from the same little black book
Some people shine like diamonds on a crisp moonlit night
Paint the sky a crystal hue but are too afraid to cry

Some people live in fear of pain
Not knowing it’s inside them
Some people sing in prosaic verses
Falling shattered before they can see the evanescent flames dancing
Some people hurt to put a knife down someone’s back
And turn to soothe the scars with salt
Some people don’t understand why the world
Can continue on without them too

Some people touch with hands painted red
Too cowardly to feel the naked heat
Some people hide behind curtains big and bright
And question everything they have
Some people live in shades of grey
And live and die beneath the city lights
Some people, blinded; never see a single shining star
And then question you about your fight


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