We were on first name basis. That one they love and I. That tortured soul began to want me. That troubled heart began to hear my beat. Those weary arms began to weave themselves around me. Carbon copy of Mr. Adams and all of the elite misunderstood.
But in word and deed in principle that darling boy was good.
They work so hard to prove themselves to those who’ll never care. They let alone the ones who will forevermore be there. They shroud themselves in darkness lest the light should overcome their doubts… doubts in themselves. Comparatively speaking, just as good if not better. But the cards and chips have fallen down around the real go-getter, and created mountains calling all they are to overcome. And they sing til they’re undone and curse the place where they are from.
Some just tell good stories about how dark their days have been and dive headlong into trouble so it just sounds interesting. Some of us had demons in our cradles as we slept while heaven sang lullabies to sooth our troubled heads.
He was invited but he heard the words all wrong. So when I said, 'come in', he heard me say ‘get gone'.
We were on a first name basis. That one they love and I. He begged for me, then fled and left me in the angry night.