Lifetime to Live

I talk and write about things that nobody cares about.
So when I come with intent.. it is something new to the mind.
You don't care what I write about..
Or if I write at all.
You are not the reason I keep writing.
I write for the ultimate prize, my piece of mind.
But it kills me if there is censorship to the mind, body and soul
So if I censor myself in front of you
You see no reason to be anything but true.
But when I step out of these defining lines
I am the one who has to redraw them from what is left of chalk dust.
And through the dust we loose the lines of friendship.
Friends are forever.
And if friends put a boundary of time or space between them,
It puts a strain, but does not shake the foundation
If it is true.
For our hearts keep the love that holds us up when we fall.
But what you are calling for is shattering to the memories.
It is all a mixed signal.
Pick up the pieces to the film.
And when its all together you still have pieces gone
It is a scar to the photo.
In the night of a temples evening stone
A gray face is carved in a gray picture
Just a face in the crowd of a circus
But to step out of the shadow of a doubt
Is nothing more but fashionably rude
It is the secret world of words that are not virgin to the mind,
But virgin to the lips.
With the intent to only hurt and crumble hope,
And to deteriorate everything.
So walk out with the faith you were born with
And I will be here for you, rain or shine
Waiting for you, if you stumble or run, you and none others.
Your one true variable sits in the silence hidden by drama.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002