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This diary entry is written by ‹VocifereAndee!›. ( View all entries )
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The Big Black ClockCategory: Poems
Thursday, 14 May 2009
10:43:13 PM (GMT)
Brittney wanted me to write something.
So I did.

Tick. Tock. Make it stop, Let's just drop all we've got Let's just fall apart right here, We're merely puppets in the hands, the hands of who? The hands of you. Why, this story of true fiction, it's sensibility doesn't make sense. You're easily trying too hard, and hardy trying at all, maybe this is how I like it, secretive and quiet. If you were a spy, you'd understand, If you were a game show host and the prize was my heart, you'd run away to Paris, completely out of sight. No one would win this very special prize, you'd keep it to yourself, 'cause that's how you like it- secretive and quiet. I'm used and I'm broken but I'm useless and in one piece. You are the singer, I am the artist Painting your words like magic simply from my fingerless fingertips. Blind am I, but I don't need to see For you are my singer- So I just need my ears to hear, and my hands to paint. The words roll off your tongue, and the sounds ring in the ears of the world, since no one really hears us and no one really cares, what's the point? My magic is simply ignored you're voice is still unheard, we're just the unknown in scary place. And this is our end the end of your song the end of my painting so sign it with me, and make it pretty, even if no one sees, We'll make our mark on this scary place.

xxMKluvsZEPPLYNxx says:   14 May 2009   382523  
Awesome Andee!!
‹VocifereAndee!› says:   14 May 2009   113161  
Thank you!
wonderfulASS says:   14 May 2009   167823  
though at first i thought it said big black cock cos im rly horny
‹VocifereAndee!› says :   14 May 2009   637629  


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