poetry

spoken word

song lyrics

collaborations

poetry || photo || log

Speaking of Things.

It should be forbidden to forbid things, nah, I’m just kidding I would miss things if someone did it, knowing I didn’t, I wouldn’t and couldn’t but would have lived it, if I had got it, had it, I was before it but at it, with it, you were somewhere in the middle, of the riddle, I spent time questioning your motives and lies at times we didn’t count, or bothered about, worked it out, we heard it out, spoke briefly about nothing, but said something, at least, we kept the peace, quiet it was, before the storm, out of the realms of norms, we conceived a story so torn we didn’t realise it was born, before the truth scorned, us, but did it mean anything at all? Was it the last call of the winter or before the fall? I suspect we will start where we’ve left, the last time, someone might accept the fact there were exceptions made, from the rules never to break, it’s never too late, to start on a new endeavour today, running away from the past, into the future, without a mask, one has got to ask, where were you in the beginning of the ending, when we were standing tall, but short of an ending? There could have been something else, but oh well, in the end of this fairytale we found our own dwell and released by our spell we waved heaven goodbye to hell.

© Martin Ångnell 2010 - 2017