“Most people look at things and wish they were simpler. They tell me they wish they could be a kid again, when things were less complicated. Where the hardest choice of the day was watching “Spongebob Squarepants” or “Dexter’s Laboratory” and the worst punishment you could possibly get was Time-Out in your room.
It is my belief,
That you have been held captive
in the City of Angels.
Angels force you to model and
Now once there was a story of a plight,
Of a man that spoke of great fright.
He stood on the corner
Like a small stature mourner
I wish that I could pick up a guitar
And play a song for you that's beautiful.
Each chord would melt you 'til your eyes were pools
And you would glow as if you were a star!
Don't rhyme, Poetry.
Our thoughts and tongues don't think that way.
Steer clear of meter, sweet Poetry.
I'm tired of counting and scanning.