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More from ~ObliviousGenius

Take Me With You
Take me with you to war, father,
I don't care what I have to do.
I'm ready for war, father, I swear.
If we don't come home, at least I was there with you.

Take me with you to work, mother,
Let me don the make-up and the clothes.
I'm ready for whatever he can ask for, mother,
No matter how cold the wind blows.

I want to go in your stead,
I want to take the pain away from your eyes.
But if you must go, father, let me come too,
So I can be the one who dies.

I want to go in your stead,
I want to protect you from another one,
I know the money is for me, mother,
So let me be the one to take in the toxin.

Take me with you, please.
9--P4
I walked up to my mirror one day,
And thought perhaps my reflection had something to say.
I asked her why she stared at me so,
But she remained silent, so I do not know.
I decided to leave and let her think for awhile,
And left her with a wave and smile.
But when I looked back, she was not there.
Perhaps she had gone to the Reflection Fair.
She would go ride the backwards ferris wheel,
And eat an upside-down fair-food meal.
I ran to the mirror to call her back,
For her answer I did still lack.
But when I skidded to a halt,
She was back, without a scrape or fault.
Perhaps she did go to the Reflection fair,
But whenever I came ar
9--P2
"You're dead."

Thanks, God, that was a nice way to put it.
So I'm dead.
That's kind of a shock.
Are you sure I'm dead?
"Yes."

Well, shit.
9--P1
See that boy over there?

His head of hair buried into that skull cap,
His face grim, lined with mishap.
He seems to curve in, skin bleak.

They say he plays the trombone,
And that he talks like Al Capone,
But no one's ever heard him speak.

You know, they talk about him behind his back,
About his clothes, his social lack,
Why he was out all of last week.

Somebody went to go talk to him,
But all he did was stare at them.
Was he annoyed or acting chic?
9--P3
I've heard the rumble of the avalanche,
I've seen the crumble of the Berlin Wall,
I've dropped my leaves in the yard of JFK,
I've witnessed New Orleans  being blown away.

I'm the tallest oak in the Oregon forest,
I'm the smallest confetti in the Macy's parade,
I'm 100% recycled--the martyr no one knew,
But you can bet I've seen twice as much as you.

Do you have a guess as to what I am?
Are your thoughts a mess as to what I am?
Well, it seems hard, but it's no job for a caper,
For I am a single, blank sheet of paper.

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June 18, 2012
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:iconobliviousgenius:
~cute-neko visits the Petersen's Automotive Museum. That wasn't a car in the museum proper; someone had driven it there. Which was why I could touch it. :iconumadbroplz:
:iconcute-neko:
~cute-neko Jun 18, 2012  Student General Artist
and I could sit on it yeeeeah
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