It's been like painting from memory,
But a memory that's not mine
I've been pushing paint where I though it should go.
Trying to pick hues to compliment colors that I have yet to see.
Painting spring when all I've ever known is fall.
And winter was the expectation.
Aren't we all so sick of always falling short?
I have been for some time.
So let's leave words for the defining,
And let brushstrokes guide the t**les.
We've been summed up too neatly by old t***les
that we thought bestowed insight.
This life is more than what you claim
My only concern is how I define: "peace of mind."
But a memory that's not mine
I've been pushing paint where I though it should go.
Trying to pick hues to compliment colors that I have yet to see.
Painting spring when all I've ever known is fall.
And winter was the expectation.
Aren't we all so sick of always falling short?
I have been for some time.
So let's leave words for the defining,
And let brushstrokes guide the t**les.
We've been summed up too neatly by old t***les
that we thought bestowed insight.
This life is more than what you claim
My only concern is how I define: "peace of mind."