This is what it is: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
"This is what it is"
This is what it is, life at a grand pace; the slow motion of a beautiful face mouthing the words that fill the empty space in your heart; thoughts of an angle make you tremble but the expression you see sinks your ambition.
This is what it is, the spinning of the world that makes you go round the sound of tear drops that hit the ground, rising up in to trees of loneliness shedding the bark of isolation to show the bear real you. You are the center of all this and more, are you there? In heart and in spirit or is this all a mask to suppress your demons to the mass, to keep you from been the one who every one points the finger too.
This is what it is, life at a faster pace more stress on the grace you once had as a child. Said are your skies bleeding clouds dry leaving worldly winds of whys? On the other side of the world I can hear you like a muse to my soul pounding deep with in myself finding the words I could not say but blurt out so rapidly when in thought of you.
Keep this in mind that when you think of any two things together think of you and me and nothing else, because this is what it is life at a grand pace with a lost love some were in this race.
By John M. Pride Jr.
3/3/06
This is what it is, life at a grand pace; the slow motion of a beautiful face mouthing the words that fill the empty space in your heart; thoughts of an angle make you tremble but the expression you see sinks your ambition.
This is what it is, the spinning of the world that makes you go round the sound of tear drops that hit the ground, rising up in to trees of loneliness shedding the bark of isolation to show the bear real you. You are the center of all this and more, are you there? In heart and in spirit or is this all a mask to suppress your demons to the mass, to keep you from been the one who every one points the finger too.
This is what it is, life at a faster pace more stress on the grace you once had as a child. Said are your skies bleeding clouds dry leaving worldly winds of whys? On the other side of the world I can hear you like a muse to my soul pounding deep with in myself finding the words I could not say but blurt out so rapidly when in thought of you.
Keep this in mind that when you think of any two things together think of you and me and nothing else, because this is what it is life at a grand pace with a lost love some were in this race.
By John M. Pride Jr.
3/3/06
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