Please do not feel pity for the hunchback
‘Cause he had the perfect view of beauty.
Even though companionship he did lack,
Which some think is how you find yourself free;
Instead, he got to look down on the crowd,
And judge them based on their humanity.
Something is not true ’cause you say it loud
But not always for that society.
From his perch on top of the cathedral,
He is free from the pain dealt by their words,
He does not need to be hurt by their ills,
Making all his friends from the carefree birds.
Don’t regret what it is you never knew;
Instead, sit back and enjoy the view.
As the breeze blows over the patio
Allow me to refill your empty glass.
There is not a place where you need to go
And you should never let a moment pass.
You know you enjoy the conversation
As we let the time of the night tick by,
For our memories are the connection
Of where our relationship really lies.
Though it may be that only once a year
That our lives are able to intersect,
It is these little moments that appear
That move my heart with the greatest effect.
I want to thank you for the night’s meal,
Also the way the time makes me feel.
I have forgot what it means to be dry
Because I have lived in this rain too long.
I hope my personal weather will sigh,
Allowing the time with the sun the time to be strong.
Until then I will sit under this cloud
With my drenched clothes clinging to my body.
A fool in the rain can never be proud,
Punishment for never being naughty.
I will continue to wear my smile
‘Cause others depend on the attitude.
Dripping laughter will become my style,
Never expecting any platitude.
Will any ever understand my pain,
Just a wet man, standing in his own rain?
I know that I haven’t seen you in a year,
But that does not mean I do not miss you.
You hang out in the dark, living in fear
That the time we spend together is through,
But now that I am here, you can let go
Of the trepidation that holds you back.
We can share all the memories we know,
Falling in the pieces we may now lack.
Though our time together may be little,
We should savor the taste while it lasts.
The relationships we have are brittle,
Living in the shadow of what fate casts.
But it is time for me to lock the door,
And put you back to where you were before.
I have burned the candle down to the wick
And taken the summer to its limit.
In my memory, I want it to stick,
But there is so much I’m likely to forget.
Some say I should take it a little slow,
To savor for the sake of savoring,
But I have decided to go and go
In a frenzy that is unwavering.
But within the rush I have hit the wall.
I can no longer find the energy.
The excitement of life will never stall,
And will threaten to go on without me.
Do I always need to drive at a fast pace?
What is even the purpose of this race?
The bug flies to rest upon your finger
And crawls up it as if you were not there.
You watch its investigative linger,
Making sure to respect your guest with care.
This is when you bring your finger to me
And ever so carefully and gently
You guide your friend over to my left knee
Where in its new environment it’s free.
The bug wanders around its new terrain.
It peeks its head into every nook,
When, for reasons that I cannot explain
Up into the dusk of day, off it took.
That has become my favorite moment
For it was so simple before it went.
Why should I lament the slow retreating
Of one who many call my enemy?
My victory will bask in the heating
Of the summary of days so sunny?
But when my foe is no longer around,
Will I find satisfaction in the peace
I have obtained on the battleground?
Will my vain lust for war begin to cease?
Or will I regret the new found absence
Who in my heart I believed I must hate?
For when I find that he has gone from hence
That actually, he was my perfect mate.
We must first learn to live in harmony
With the one we think is our enemy.
Let me tell you my story through pictures
Because no words are needed to be said
About the traits of my adventures.
Let my bold actions tell the tale instead.
It starts by being trapped in a dark room
Working by the light of a computer.
Having no escape indicates my doom,
Making the in-pile harder to endure.
But my heart begins to make a demand
To breathe deeply the clean air of freedom,
So from behind my desk I take a stand
To return to the place where I came from.
There is a rock in my secret garden
Where I can sit and take the nature in.
Can expectations live up to the hype
Or will you feel hollow disappointment?
Will you nitpick what you have seen, and gripe
‘Bout wanting more from your entertainment?
What do you expect from an industry
Who wishes nothing more than your pleasure?
Why do you think those who make a movie
Are subject to a life of indenture?
When has it been your creativity
That has given us reason to applaud?
Do you understand how this scrutiny
Is regarded as words told from a fraud?
If you believe you can do better
Then take your turn being the court jester.
The night is when we take over the roads
With all of our trinkets and wares to sell.
We put up our tents and unpack our loads
Of colorful textiles with their bright spells.
Would you please unhinge your fat money clip
To give away your valuable bills?
In exchange in your backpack you can slip
The stuff you have earned with your shopping thrills.
We can both move on with each satisfied
About what we have done in this market.
Thoughts of Communism is all that died
As the world fights for what it wants to get.
We will shuffle off in the rising dawn
Wondering where the night market has gone.