A little Creedence
days gone by the changing wind
hold onto love, chance.
© Scott F Savage 2019
A little Creedence
days gone by the changing wind
hold onto love, chance.
© Scott F Savage 2019
To find the truth
we might falter
knowing our lives
are built as a soldier
would on the lines
decide his life
is worthy of sacrifice.
Every moment he knew
a flashback we say
PTSD
a diagnosis for him.
This design
such is scrutiny
meant to ruin our lives
balk at happiness.
I wandered into love
only to realize
this desine, this circumstance
might be meant for chance.
Where love stands
compassion remain
internal demands
remain the same.
Once a woman
beauty spills time
held certain, ran
forever sublime.
She could return
the silence gone
allow this yearn.
A melody is song
I wonder of chance
may sense romance!
Stars align in a cosmic evolution
bullshit
all I want is a piece of pie,
not a dramatic determination
as much as I could prove myself worthy,
in the end
where it is I want to be,
I would still be lost in …
lost in that …
some transparent atmosphere
that ten minutes earlier
seemed so fulfilling
yet right now
further away from me than I might imagine
I’m really
rather adamant
with this need
a familiar place,
centered inside
the quiet relief
found only in sweet beauty
of such is the elegant grace of woman,
her,
this remarkable feeling
comes over me
tells me,
I’m not an idiot,
this is wonderful,
this now,
touch,
me.
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
He said
She said
They wanted
A bed
Yet
For now
It was a polished
Atmosphere
The stale beer
A lonely stare
She said
I will
We will
I would
Would you,
He said,
I would …
Later
When the lights went out
The crowds disappeared
She said
I could
He said
I will
They did
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