That Little Man Who Wasn’t There Let me tell you what it is like To exist on the fringe, To be a Shadow of The Man That you might have been. I used to walk into a room And people noticed that I was there: But now I always feel like That Little Man Who Wasn’t There. I can feel the eyes as they scan me, When I pass down the street; But the smiles freeze on the faces, And our eyes just never meet. ...
THE LOVERS Darkness is a lady that dances with Light, A gentleman, he, proud and noble. The shapes they create with their intertwining bodies Cause the mind to grow giddy with disbelief. And the eyes ask themselves if they really saw The things the mind says simply cannot exist. No finer dancers in the Universe exist, Weaving a pattern unmatched, Miss Darkness and Mr. Light. The Earth is their stage, their dance familiar ...
She Wept, She cried… She felt impure… A wound inflicted… It had no cure… She knew not what to, Say or do… She could not start Her life anew… She said all through Her helpless cries No hope left… In her tearless eyes… She felt as if she’d, Lost the race… Fear and sadness, ...
It is time for a great celebration! Inside the grand hall the illustrious ball is in full-fledged effect, as eminent ladies dressed in fishnet bow and pass beneath the alabaster arches. The noble assembly all coupled en masse dance and sway to lovelorn serenades and gay-stride minuets. Ma Cher, Ma Cherie, Where is thy silhouette? Across the checkered squares we met, locked in a gaze of mutual ...
It’s hot as hell, but hotter still the fiery sun and scorching sand that beat and blaze above and below to burn the backs of better men, of men laid low in steely Iraq or unsung heroes West of Tehran. The bursting flames of combative battlefields make cowards brave and gods of men, and fleeting bullets through blood-sullied hills sing of nations saved or ideas defended through graveyards paved with epithets of ...
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