Ray Mesa Poems

Running blind
She's a runaway bride
Today she's not mine
Yeasterday's ignored signs
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Fly with me, Into the mist
Lean in for my final Kiss
This day I'll soon miss
Lean into the blow, Dodge my fist
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Keen as the bullet so near, it deepens to the beat of the bombs. The hallow voice among the hallway telling us to just believe for once. But our faith is like the rain it only seems to be seen when we don't want it. But the rain can puddle up into something bigger. Our faith just explodes and goes into the drainage we call our souls. Only reappears when it seems like the smallest dropp could save us.

A scent hovering above, its tale written in the feather's of an eagle. The eagle goes through pain just to explain a moment of one's life. But soon the eagle will die and all that will remain are the old feathers and the smell. But a scent and memories won't bring back the whole image. So we must savor the moment for the time it exists. Much like the rain a moment can brighten or darken your day. Rain can inspire but all a memory can do is drive you into a wall of doubt and depression.
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Summon the gods, laugh out loud
Let it rot and make mother proud
I've been shot and I fell to the ground
Leave me in this grave I buried for us
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I'm mad at me
Mad at her
Now an enemy
I'm too mad to talk
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Tuesday's gone and So is Sarah
I'll burn on even through I can't bare
To look you in the eyes and say I hate you
Life's a lie and I can't date you
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Thoughts of you
Have made me worse
Everything’s blue
And everything hurts
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Feelings so low
That they barely breathe
I'm so alone
That I barely see
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III. Her Only Clothes, Is the Falling Snow

Staring blankly into a photo of a girl I'll never know
I'm looking forward to getting stuck out in the snow
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Now featuring our main creature
His eyes red from the smoke
His smile weak like a paper cup
As you watch and choke
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