Submissions by Adam_Bolton

Is a paradox a paradox,
If the unstoppable force,
Is the immoveable objects power source?

Verse 1:

In this world things aren't what they seem,
Reality and dreams they break at the seams,
And seamlessly blend into a movie scene,
Characters never say exactly what they mean,

Plot twists between lonely monologues,
Interspersed with love sick dialogue,
Catalogued by a fate that leaves you thinking,
Is this for real, or have I been drinking?

Nobodies plot is ever simplistic,
But mine seems unusually antagonistic,
Opposing...

Everyone worries.
Everyone gets scared.
That's all fair enough, everyone cares,
But where do you draw the line, between a fine level of worry and blind anxiety?
Well,
When you're aware of every single breath of air,
Every single mole and hair,
When you check, everywhere for lumps and bumps and as for risk taking, you wouldn't dare!
I live every single day with at least some fear,
Worrying about all the little things that I hear,
About why I have a lump behind my left ear,
And even before the day is done I'm dreaming of the all clear, ...

Life is as complex as the stars that make up the night sky, at times as dark as the emptiness that draws your eye, at times it burns when flames of pain are roaring, but it's never dry and it's never boring, and the things that you've seen, from serene Italian Lakes to ground shaking quakes the world is amazing yet destructive in every path it takes, a path that will lead you through awful aches and lucky breaks and it all culminates in a scary thought. What happens when it all ends?
Well I can guarantee you you're not the only one that's felt that fear, and being scared of how near or...

I speak to you from inside a cage,
a cage with bars built out of rage,
a cage which keeps love at bay,
as if the waves of happiness stop 10 feet from the shore,
as if I'm sure there's no way they can possibly rinse clean my battered pores,
as if every wave is carrying a heart eating shark
waiting to rip apart the bars of my cage and wage war
on a man who's heart is premature,
but is it, premature?
or am I just unsure of what I want?
At nights my broken heart endures the memories from distant shores,
where waves did make it that extra 10 feet,...