not all art hangs in a museum

pictures are portals of pain

memories in refrain

 

with her i’ve lain

till sheets were stained

 

i know it only is because it is perceived

but i perceive that she is gone

like every other person i’ve known

 

i’m the kind of person you leave

i guess

now me and adam are singing

“come back to me”

 

and i can never learn history

without wondering how lonely

was that person in that seaside village

 

the time period irrelevant

time cannot reinvent

we are all always looking for acceptance

in a universal mind that won’t let us

accept ourselves

 

and love hangs in the gallows

hoping for another breath

 

she walks by

momentarily looks in my eyes

and in that moment the film

runs from beginning to end

where she and i live happily ever after

 

but that’s why they give out oscars

for the best actress in a film

because none of it was real

 

and tonight the hollywood boulevard crowd

is my shroud

although every part of me screams aloud

philosophy, thoughts and reasons all be damned

won’t someone just love me

 

and amid the throng, noise

hustle and bustle

silence is all i hear

 

***