Dreams died with the grave

Only one can save,

City of angels and bright deception,

In the drudgery of daily is the forgery

Of the great mystery,

Long socks, short shorts, exposure is

Not so sure, rolling stones in the night,

How does it feel to live not so real?

Tank of dreams, tank of all that seems,

Tank in me is on empty

Poet spoke, who wrote it?

World exaggerated,

Truth exacerbated,

All have gathered to see you on

Stage, respect me cause I have the

Microphone and I can’t think twice,

But I am up at night trying to get it

Right, torched those thoughts way back

When, furnace affair with what she never did

Share, beach days and fireworks, moved in closer

To you, closer to love, blonde and white, sand so

Tight between those toes, you still have made the

Tank, but now I walk the plank, I see the sharks

I see them swimming down there,

I will not waste the sunlight,

I will let it expose my darkness,

I will live more than I will think-

Its a furnace affair, in me today

And burned away tomorrow-

Don’t just think

Just live