It's the week of the democratic convention- streets are crowded, police are blocking the road ways, work hours are scattered, and the grey sky is about to wail. So I'm sitting at my desk with a coffee in hand trying to keep my mind on work matters... but obviously it drifts to writing poetry...
She pops the top to a glass bottle coke, then
felt the fizz fall over her heart still broken
counting sidewalk tiles and bus line tokens
accumulating like all of her words gone unspoken
It's another day among the autumn clouds
lost in the pain of love not found
she has a hard time looking up while always falling down
wiping away bruises breathlessly without a sound
The flourescents flicker across tear stained cheeks
She'd been caught up in his memory for weeks upon weeks
but it's rare for her to listen when her heart speaks
reminding her of photograph-now certified antiques
Always blind to the lure of glittering gold
she found life was nothing like she had been told
possibilities came and went-some leased then sold
left her with nothing but the fear of being alone and old
They say girls before guys, like maturity is a race
but he gets the gold, every blue ribbon in this case
Time waits for no one in this crazy place
I'll sink below the shadows- dissolve without a trace
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