deepundergroundpoetry.com
Beacon *re edit
.
Beyond the story teller
with his crooked hat.
Past the cauldron;
broken wing of lifeless bat.
Looking behind doors;
eyes that didn't see,
in the dark spaces
you'll find me.
Void of smile no vocal spit,
Sometimes right often wrong,
Living the dream taking a hit.
But here you are,
my beacon of light
giver of hope,
hiding just out of reach
out of sight.
Beyond the story teller
with his crooked hat.
Past the cauldron;
broken wing of lifeless bat.
Looking behind doors;
eyes that didn't see,
in the dark spaces
you'll find me.
Void of smile no vocal spit,
Sometimes right often wrong,
Living the dream taking a hit.
But here you are,
my beacon of light
giver of hope,
hiding just out of reach
out of sight.
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