You moved to a metropolis
Full of New York Minuets and California tans
To gaze at Las Vegas lights
That create synthetic stars over
Young faces that seem to mature
Twice as fast as the clock goes around
Wrinkling space and time into a miniature globe
That can fit in your back pocket
Taking the place of a stolen wallet
Who is staring into a misplaced identity
That is now far away
From Paris love
And Orlando theme parks
Full of screaming kids and wealth flying
Out of bank accounts
Antique as the timbs of Egypt
And aged Greek battles
That result in Death to Dust
But nothing amounts to the island
That you left behind
Safely packaged in a box in the crook
Of your room
Still untouched because the pictures
Of a lonely paradise are still too painful
To smile at
It only takes one to take a picture
So easy to imprison the soul
Of one man left behind
Lost in the ocean waves
And swaying palm trees
Until time forgets to turn
And the island is lost again
In the big city life
 Tattered W!ngs · Sat Dec 24, 2005 @ 02:20am · 0 Comments |
