Dan Caliolio Poems

if by chance the glass breaks
...

To our genuine feelings,
'May you rest in peace...'
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it's the euphoria of this descent, and i'm running for the touchdown.
but i'm stuck in slow-motion, my boy is cold, drunk, and drugged...
i'm prying for pretend memories, and i'm tied in a line, which makes me the bait...
to be the bait means to be broken.to be broken means to be shallow, but not desperate.
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i'm a chemist,
and i'll sing this formula throughout your body.
i'd make your heart burst,
and i'd sing more lies.
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Hey girl,
shakey little Marionette! let me tweak you a smile for a nickel.
i'm that puppeteer who has the world to offer.
my carriage is nonetheless brand new,
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just in case a poet runs out of weapons,
neither he or she can be lethal.
like a shooting star casting away from the moon,
neither these two things are dead brutal.
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STAY FOR ME THERE! I WILL NOT FAIL!

TO MEET THEE IN THAT HOLLOW VALE.
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its Dan, and i'm writing, because i'm not going to sleep.I miss that sunrise, this sunset got too old.I need good Irony in my life.I need my Moon.I want the universe to implode and burst into fireworks, so we can say that this will be a happy new year...perhaps not.I lied.

I say time should fall back, so the dandelions could fly and sing, to regress in all the happiness, because happiness is a privelege, or an incisive decision.maybe we all sleep because we want an excuse, to be sad, or to die faster.we're dying every second, and boy, if sleeping is fantastic, then dying sure feels great.but it doesn't.I don't know how its like, to die.but as soon as i fall asleep, I will.
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Sad to say, we lost our ways,
as we sway, far away, from our 'baby days'.
its when our walls turned to gray,
and we became the biggest cliches, and fell,
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and as the parade marches,
the tides rise to believe matches are better than lighters.
its not your everyday 'personification' when letter turn to numbers.
so I need you to keep quiet and fly
...