Survivor Poetry

You Made my life a crystal ball of confusion

I painted a portrait of an illusion, a raw throbbing contusion

Im a melodic disaster

This is my conclusion…

We Sing Along, but the notes are wrong, we sang along from night till dawn

These Drums, they make me so strong, it took so long to get this level to prove the world wrong

These Screams, ugly but pretty, id love to see mars but lets go see the city

In my incipience, they i implied i was rather fastidious

Describing a world so hideous, to a community near The HALL that seemed so oblivious

I had the propensity, to show serendipity, ugly in the light

Like the sound of a fight on a cold winter night, each analogical plight blasts out of sight

I showed pain that i had found a way to make things right, just keep singing along all through this winter night

The strings can be weak, but dont worry love that we can tweak

If its true love you seek, then we can climb this peak

Then it goes silent, the stillness of anticipation has a quality thats ultraviolent

We do this…to make peace with ourselves

Some of us have our own meaning of art, some strive to display that an end always has a start

So tonight, its our feet we tap, we are the generation of survivor art that makes beauty from crap

They say hate breeds hate, tonight the only sound is the symphony of finger snaps

We all sing out of tune, our spirits ascend all but to soon

This is the last line…we sit on young love’s lagoon, staring as the stars whisper to the moon

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