Saturday, April 7, 2012

The Time Alone

This is about the time alone
A need to think without exterior suggestions
Confession of sort
A lead from last resort.
Or is it first instincts?
Without retort

This is Cameron Crowe movies
Of the lost-their-ways
And the good old days
And how we find ourselves
In the thickness of haze

This is the exhale that never stops
Distracted by inspiration
Until we're blue
And true
And ready to drop

And the inhale that follows
As pride is swallowed
A humbleness
A stumble's best
Is that it's a teacher, yes

This is about the tones of Caitlin Rose
The reverb of guitars
Organs tell who we are
To a point where we imitate
A starting point to recreate
What we want to be
Who we need to see
In that mirror
We give graciously

Yes, This is about what most can't condone
That subtle tone
Of disapproving groans
The absence of love ones so we can define our own
This is about the growth within
This is about the time alone

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