I am not worthy of your touch I am not deserving of your love I feel a substitute of a man A man before you holding out hands Falling down a bottomless ... Bottomless pit of need... I need your inspiration... Motivation to lift me up.. Normally the soldier... Usually a master of courage I am weak before you… A slave for you, so weak, I shake... I have no money to speak of I can't lie about my state of affairs You got to start from somewhere And you are 10 feet tall... Please give me the break that I need Your love is the answer to all... I was told this by someone else ‘Pursue that girl, go chase her’ I wanna stop falling Catch your hand... And start climbing... It took massive courage to write this And we will always be One day I'd love your intimacy All over me, my lovely...
“This goes out to everybody who has there secret somebody.” “Hopefully, you will get that somebody.” "Thank you, I bow with keyboard in hand".
So these are words for music; I think they fit very well that way. Surely these words aren't the bullets, though. These words are soft, filled with pleading and self-deprecation. Is there a version of this that shows strength and confidence growing in the young man? I cannot visualize the object of his affection paying him any attention until she senses some strength; she doesn't want a slave, does she? But the flow of this is lovely and graceful, describing the want-to-be lover in terms that are evocative and empathetic.
Words as bullets has always been a fascinating concept for me. I grew up an introvert in a houseful of extroverts with tongues as sharp as sabers, as brutal as armor-piercing bullets. They all thought that a glib apology made it all OK. Band aids don't work for bullet wounds, do they? They all think "sorry" is magic, but it's not; love is the magic.
So these are words for music; I think they fit very well that way. Surely these words aren't the bullets, though. These words are soft, filled with pleading and self-deprecation. Is there a version of this that shows strength and confidence growing in the young man? I cannot visualize the object of his affection paying him any attention until she senses some strength; she doesn't want a slave, does she? But the flow of this is lovely and graceful, describing the want-to-be lover in terms that are evocative and empathetic.
Words as bullets has always been a fascinating concept for me. I grew up an introvert in a houseful of extroverts with tongues as sharp as sabers, as brutal as armor-piercing bullets. They all thought that a glib apology made it all OK. Band aids don't work for bullet wounds, do they? They all think "sorry" is magic, but it's not; love is the magic.
This is the 2nd time I am publishing my works on, I have changed my detail since I wrote what I did before. I am nearly 36 at the start of beginning these works. I hope you enjoy them, I have a page r.. more..