Old poetry

Don't worry, I've withheld the cringiest specimens! Here's some teenage angst that may inspire your own songwriting.




Autumn


Gold will always rot to green

As silver into gray

It's all a part of loss that fades

Into its own decay.


Green always dissolves to brown

While evening drinks today

Time's eternal waves that ceaseless come

To shore and never stay.


Music always dies as silence,

Silence swallows what we say

The stilled heart and breathless breast

Of those who greet no morning's ray.


Love always melts to sorrow,

Beauty withers day by day

A falling rain that touches Earth

And is absorbed away.







Loneliness is like Silence


Loneliness is like silence

It fills every space

Always in the background

Behind smiling face.

Life's joyful pauses are filled with this

Between the laughter, among the bliss.

Pause in loquation and feel its cold kiss.

Loneliness, loneliness, in the abyss.


The dark between stars,

The tears from a lie,

The eyes of the innocent who wonders why

Loneliness, loneliness, there when you die.


It lives in the distance of humanity's lives

The quiet and solitary are where loneliness thrives

A constant, a theme with which people strive

To overwrite and forget until their demise.

Loneliness, loneliness, always arrives.


Loneliness is the darkness which devours the dead

Always awaiting in silence's stead.








Give


Give and give and give away

All of you

Expect nothing, get nothing

Nothing's left.

When it's all over, no one noticed

Who was always there for them

When you're bereft.

Give your only scrap of food, die alone

Give the bitterness that fills the void

Empty, empty.

No joy.







Cigarette Scent


Cigarette scent only smells good on you

Tart with sarcasm

Bitter with truth

In a world where no one's perfect

And nothing is new

I draw close to you

Finding no adieu

I don't see your ashes,

Just the flame inside you

Thus I say true

Cigarette scent only smells good on you.





Lila


Alas the day Lila withered in the grass

Her roots consumed by dust, ants, and heat

Small girl sat and cried by her friend's dead feet

Fragrant blooms and leaves shall no more pass

Their loving shade upon brown eyes

Where once grey arms upheld cautious feet

Pieces lay ripped apart in stacks so neat

A mass of dead wood, bare against the sky

Memories of the eyrie she had filled her mind

In Lila's strong arms the girl could not cry

Closer to God, now no arms brought her high






Happiness


Happiness dropped me off

By the side of the road

I hear my feet

As I walk home

Emptier than before

Nothing to say.

Taillights disappear

There was never any way






Narcissist


O voice who speaks so transparently

Why do you return to me?

Why, again, must it be so

That I hear your stories flow?

Hollow, echoing alone

My mind is elsewhere.

Let me be.

I was happy, i was free

You soar on your trip, ecstatically,

and I clap half-heartedly.

Why, after months of silent drought

Do you return to me to preen and puff?

I shrug a snowy shoulder,

Yet it is lost upon your head of boulder

So I sit in silent despair

And wait until I can flee this snare.