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10 years назад
Understanding the message Terrance Hill – October 2010Someone told me there was nothing to it, it is easy they all said so you wake up, hold your head. Try to grow up, be strong enough to withstand all the lies…I get up, trying not to wake up, dreaming has so many advantages, like walking through walls to hurry up the next scene unraveling, spilling all the golden coins into the poolWhere my life faded, is an open doorway, an empty room collapsing on tenderness like rolling thunder, a pounding heart remains, and stays away from the rivers of tears flowing gently away into tomorrow’s deep well…It’s the January afternoons that fill my memory’s canvas sack, lying like an unconscious dreamer on a yellow table, paint peeling off and dropping dreams one at a time to the concrete floor, in the basement of my heart…On the run again, my desires are swifter than my once fast fleeing feet, the imaginary friends I once held so close have become so distant, it’s time for another departure, an exile out there on my own again, a repeat offender…I can’t stay, got to go to where the fields are golden as my grandchildren’s hair, and the poems fall from my torn pockets like flawless diamonds on soft sand, to where my anthems are born and written on paper kites for flying in the ever present wind…To who we fall into, please take care, there’s nothing behind it, nothing let of me that is strange or untrue, I feeling so tired and old this orbit, tell me you’ll keep you heart open, and I can fall in peace…Take my hand, fire up the light at the last minute, the ivy walls are the greenest I’ve ever seen them this time of year, it’s a long cold winter ahead, better a season to write in, a more sensible coded map prevails, that we can find our way home…Light up one last time, see it all expanding, speechless, we never thought it would turn this way, we always dreamed we had the choice, had voice, heart, soul, unafraid to shout out loud how much we love each other…It’s the end of the journey ,having navigated infinity, it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop, doesn’t mean I’m unaware, don’t care, am in despair, I cannot compare to creating a poem or world without the thought of you being there…