Current Residence: Kentucky|
Favourite genre of music: Most
Favourite style of art: Oil
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Wallpaper of choice: artistic
Favourite cartoon character: Alice
The Sound of Solitary Souls a lonely heartThe Sound of Solitary Souls by peterdawes
it no longer has
Heart StringsMy emotions are like an open book,Heart Strings by kainwolf
Open to be read by all who care to look.
Laying there smack in the middle,
Is something I need to keep apart.
I got a lock to close this chapter,
But I dare not throw away the key.
It dangles around my neck for all to see,
But I know not why it happens to me.
Many people have gotten close,
But all have ended with the same note.
Their hearts guarded by walls of trust,
None of which I had trouble holding the key.
But my heart has started to turn dark,
It's flesh hardening like tree bark.
I wonder if it still beats deep within my chest,
For all it knows is pain and ache.
Am I here just to be tormented with dreams,
Or can I come within inches just to fall from it's grasp?
A small family is what I desire,
One of my own isn't too much to admire?
A wife whom loving comes easy,
And a daughter that haunts my dreams.
A single fire burns deep in my cold heart,
The one that isn't easy to reach.
None but a small glimmer of hope,
A small ray of light escapes it's s
A Philadelphia State of Mindartificial sunlightA Philadelphia State of Mind by peterdawes
of streetlights hanging down upon me
illuminating rain-soaked streets
and strange faces belonging to would-be friends
invisible barriers separate us
i walk past, my hands dug into my pockets
a bit more calloused than the night before
regarding bus stops
ants marching in a steady rhythm
the pied piper of the metropolitan orchestra
directing its minions to and fro
uncanny how they look like me
as they wrestle their way through
crowded streets and crowded minds
looking around for a refuge
within coffeeshops; nightclubs
bars and concert halls
they all possess the same heartbeat
that dissonance of city dwellers
who all see with a pair of eyes
but never regard the same thing
clinging onto worn concrete
while shuffling their way past
wives and daughters
fathers and sons
uncles, aunts, and cousins
sinners and saints alike
the holy few, the impious many
the bustling wave of decadence
and salvation all store-housed together