Red Star

Nights are lonely,

Sleeping alone, he’s only,

A man with big dreams,

Small accomplishments,

High expectations, held by Seams,

Brandy, dark smoke, and disappointments.

Soul searching appointments,

Hearts mended by tears and ointments,

Anointed, and yet so unholy,

So blasphemous, so without soul, he;

Imagines better for we,

And can’t seem to be beautiful, he;

Falls, fails, wails, cries in the night time for better days,

Better pay, better say something or else he’s silenced,

The largest mouth with the least amount of meaningfulness,

Undressed, he’s unimpressed,

Jump off the face, he might just,

Cuffed, huffed, puffed,

Passed out, and his lust,

Just builds for something better for us.

Us as in you and all the stars, both in weary eyes,

And blank starry nights. He feels for goodbyes,

But can’t bear them joining the skies,

Lovers they come and go, but all his friendships, they die,

He questions why?

“Why me? Why me oh heavenly powers that certainly may be?

Can’t you see? I’m dying, wasting away and nothing you say?

Nothing you write? Nothing you do?

I’m lost without you.”

What could he possibly do?

He’s going nowhere, on the verge of 22,

Making no leeway, no headway,

What more can he say?

Can you wipe out the 17th of May.

Let it just be, another picturesque day,

Let me just waste my life away,

Return home, on a spaceship that none see but only my soul,

I feel it, this hole. It grows weary like my bones, I am not whole.

I am distraught, I am wrath,

I am anger, I am not the joy I sought,

I am just pain, drink away my days,

In bottomless clouds of smoke and brandy filled rain,

Let it escape, let all I am be one with the Cape.

Either the wind, the sun, the dirt, or the sea,

just please let it all be...