(part three of the free form poetic journey that is tha' drift, by the pontificator at large, known as b2)
drift 1c
Eloquent Mind Shaft
this will not be what you want to hear
no, that is not my intention
chances are fulfillment will soon be yours
regardless of naming convention
living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration
yes, luck can be quite arbitrary
knowing now that they still know nothing
not okay with it, yet really not caring
living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration
it wasn't all that it is cracked up to be
why, this is nothing like the pictures showed
creating myths and jading the unrepentant youth
naked we stay while our egos remained well clothed
living up to the reputation
getting down to the commiseration
-b2
drift 1b
Absent Minded Rapture
the ebb, the flow, and the do-si-do
feel it grow, keep it slow, don't you know
everybody wants a co-conspirator, everyone needs a friend
keep it up, slide it back, to-and-fro
this is how it's gonna be, don't you know
tow the line every time, give 'em hell, always have a story to tell
knock it back, pick up the slack, ready-set-go
don't hold back, now's the time, don't you know
I don't have all the answers, we've all got questions, keep-it-simple
you got it going on, on and on, hit me with it one time
know your opponent, have a plan, please tell me that you know
we're in this together, I won't let you down, just follow me down this primrose path
-b2
drift 1a
Squalor of Forgiveness
succumbing to the letters
that boredom never wrote
shedding off the layers
of morning's early coat
ne'er did she read them
ne'er did she lie
among the shadows of a life
lived beyond the yellow sky
feeling so much vigor
running from the pain
the ever present sunshine
the never ending rain
it wasn't what they told you
it's never what you read
I'll take back all the ribbons
knuckles, shackles, beads
underneath the hedge row
deep below the tears
we buried all the memories
and pissed away the years
the road has been paved over
the gravel will still lead
you'll find me by the meadow
eating junipers and seed
forgive them of their shadows
release them from all tenure
deny the grateful mercy
release the comfort censure
the old ways were forgotten
the new plan has gone foul
if only they had spoken
and removed the ghostly cowl
succumbing to the letters
that boredom never wrote
shedding off the layers
of the morning's early coat
-b2
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