small pieces of life in a dream journey

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    small pieces of life in a dream journey

    Jun28 05'

    small pieces of life in a dream journey

    from listening to Johnny Cash and the Eagles

    and from a dream

    why do some grow up

    and some never will

    why do some keep looking back

    and some never do

    why do some hearts melt

    why do some hearts turn to ice

    why are there no friends around

    when you need advice

    why are some never hungry

    why are some always starving

    why do some bare their souls

    why do some cover it up

    like burying old bones in dirt

    why do some faces tell you everything

    why do some tell you nothing

    why can you see tears on some

    why do some never cry

    why do people who drink the finest wine in town

    find themselves still thirsty

    when morning comes around

    some don’t mean to hurt

    some always will

    I have and I do

    still

    just another day in paradise

    just another day to try

    I found a trace of her once

    it was in a dream

    a friend was in there too

    he took her home once

    I asked where she was how she was doing

    he said she was fine

    she had moved to San Francisco

    I asked if he had seen her lately

    he said no

    but he knew she was dong well

    an old friend she was seeing

    told him so

    sometimes when I am driving

    the weight of mind compressing shoulders

    I see her face

    through the windshield

    it makes me want to stop

    and pull over

    if I only think of her now and then

    when Springtime comes and the rains fall

    I know I’ll think of her

    again and again

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    Teardrops commented on small pieces of life in a dream journey

    02-12-2011

    Any one who reads your work is spell bound as i am Marie
    Reply to Comment

    jimmymc600 commented on small pieces of life in a dream journey

    01-23-2011

    Another good'n, it's all in how ya FACE it!! I sorta think of it as how ya iron out the wrinkles!!
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    train64’s Poems (87)

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