"Then the rain came knocked me sideways
Hope the wind will catch my fall
I know we all deserve a couple scars
It's just getting old."
O.A.R. (of a revolution)
It's too easy – far too easy
to walk down this path again.
Then, drinking you in had me disappearing;
fading into me, into you, into us,
way more than I could handle.
But you were like a beautiful song that plays
entrancing me out of myself
your fingers strummed the very core of me
consuming my nights – stealing my days.
Then the rain came knocked me sideways.
You couldn't see the storm rage inside me
though you felt it I'm sure.
Now here we stand again and it seems so easy
to fall back in – let it take control –
spin us around like an old record
whose perfectly worn grooves touch and enthrall
familiar waves (intoxicating) strive to take hold
and it's oh so easy to get lost in the music of us,
but when the storm returns, throws me against the wall,
(I) hope the wind will catch my fall.
Every time I think it won't happen
your hand stretches out before me
inviting me to dance. I should know better
than getting caught in this whirlwind
where the only thing I'm left with is a bruised heart.
How many times will you play its strings like a guitar,
breaking them one by one – though really
it's my own damn fault thinking I was stronger
the past serving as a lesson – a guiding star;
I know we all deserve a couple of scars.
I said it before, I'll say it again
hurt is all I have to offer you, me, us
I'll always be undecided – torn up inside;
longing to feel our harmonies sync
knowing I'm to scarred to match your tune.
Still it's way too easy letting this feeling take hold,
finding everything I need in you, but not
what I need of me. I have to let go;
this song of ours has been oversold.
(and) it's just getting old.
A note on form: Yesterday, over at dVerse, they introduced the glosa. It's an interesting form meant to pay tribute to a poet by incorporating/quoting four lines from a piece of their work. It then is followed by four stanza of 10 lines where the tenth sequentially comes from the original quote. For more detail, check out the Pub's FormForAll: Paying Tribute, Page and the Glosa.
A side note on the form: So I didn't technically (depending on how you look at it) choose a poet. I chose a musical group that has a way of calming the storm that tends to rear it's ugly head. Still, song is a poetic form; it just typically incorporates some musical instruments.