Sense to me

It was easier to dream in rhyme
when I was sad and confused
now I dream of being with you
the words are harder to come to

happiness dims creativity yet if I’m
left with you that’s fine with me
so my output begins to dim
and everything I ever said

makes no sense to me

pain and sorrow spill freely
drowned and bleeding are just as easily
described in flowery phrases
but happiness is dull and grey

my words they seem to be
dark and sated absent the hunger
it’s not a bad thing
to smile instead of wonder

this makes some sense to me

I’d rather be so much rather be
hanging out with you
than sitting down with pen in hand
about to drown in a crying jag

could a smile genuinely scream
can’t you see me shining
out of the shadows finally
we are the light that’s cast

does it make sense to you?

do I care anyway if they
shake their heads and say
I can’t believe it’s you
how could this happen to?

well sometimes we find our love
when we stop looking and stop crying
and stop trying to impress that state
of lonliness and fate

thats all the sense I need

so now I don’t care for the rhyme
nor for the whine nor words so fine
the razor line just a past crime
left to lie to the shadows

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