Crow
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2000
- Messages
- 8,635
I’ll just sit here and admire from afar.
Step back into these shadows and watch
Observe from the different light
Watch her entrance, Stage left, dressed in the whitest of white
A smile of sequins, eyes of Van Morrisen’s brown eyed girl,
Skin shinning like the glass of patent leather,
You almost expect to see fairy wings on her back,
For a lass like this belongs a myth
You see how the glow of the light bulbs got brighter when she walked in?
How the heads of prospective suitors have turned, hoping she takes notice of their wallets.
The shoulders of those she touches, now have springs in their steps
And the predators gaze of lust in their eyes as she strolls by
Even the shy ones at the back of the room, stand on toes to get a glimpse
They love the look,
Love the aura of the trend, the fad of pop culture, the thing of today
For when time and gravity have won, youth no more.
They will move on, for infatuation always runs shallow
They never took the time,
Each used seconds to complement like the rest only to lose her interest.
Always greeted with a fake snicker or smile.
The monotony of bullshit conversation never ceased to amaze her,
All she wanted was truth, honesty, a real talk, one of weight and importance, the type that shows your soul.
But never had – makes you think of what kind of soul lies behind that designer dress, beneath that facade that screams for understanding.
How real is that confidence?
And what of those that listen and touch her?
Give her a meaningful ear
Ignored and cast to the wayside, just another in the crowd, covered by the screams of those obsessed with today.
For we all know that true admiration goes unnoticed
And those that love never receive
So I watch, from my observatory – this dark corner
And when the time comes I’ll slip out
Light my cigarette and hike into the night…
Till next time.
The Watcher
Step back into these shadows and watch
Observe from the different light
Watch her entrance, Stage left, dressed in the whitest of white
A smile of sequins, eyes of Van Morrisen’s brown eyed girl,
Skin shinning like the glass of patent leather,
You almost expect to see fairy wings on her back,
For a lass like this belongs a myth
You see how the glow of the light bulbs got brighter when she walked in?
How the heads of prospective suitors have turned, hoping she takes notice of their wallets.
The shoulders of those she touches, now have springs in their steps
And the predators gaze of lust in their eyes as she strolls by
Even the shy ones at the back of the room, stand on toes to get a glimpse
They love the look,
Love the aura of the trend, the fad of pop culture, the thing of today
For when time and gravity have won, youth no more.
They will move on, for infatuation always runs shallow
They never took the time,
Each used seconds to complement like the rest only to lose her interest.
Always greeted with a fake snicker or smile.
The monotony of bullshit conversation never ceased to amaze her,
All she wanted was truth, honesty, a real talk, one of weight and importance, the type that shows your soul.
But never had – makes you think of what kind of soul lies behind that designer dress, beneath that facade that screams for understanding.
How real is that confidence?
And what of those that listen and touch her?
Give her a meaningful ear
Ignored and cast to the wayside, just another in the crowd, covered by the screams of those obsessed with today.
For we all know that true admiration goes unnoticed
And those that love never receive
So I watch, from my observatory – this dark corner
And when the time comes I’ll slip out
Light my cigarette and hike into the night…
Till next time.
The Watcher
