Where?
Can you take me someplace else?
Where my diary isn't the one,
Whom I tell things, I used to tell you,
Somewhere,
That's not home,
A place you're homesick for,
A world, not to be found,
But to get lost in,
That's not home,
A place you're homesick for,
A world, not to be found,
But to get lost in,
Where there's no tax on coffee,
And people live to read,
Somewhere,
Where the freshness of the cakes,
Is the only intoxication to resort to,
Where the wine is shared with only those you love,
And not to forget them,
Somewhere,
That is untouched by profit,
That is virgin in its most spectacular manner,
Somewhere,
Where you can talk to stars,
And instead of guiding you, they hear you,
For a change?
Where the moon is unblemished,
And the sun shines only until,
Your warm skin shines to make you stand out,
Do you know of a place like this?
Take me to that place,
Where you're the only person I tell things,
And my diary is the only one to tell things,
loved it. Where there's no tax on coffee,
ReplyDeleteAnd people live to read.. fucking brilliant.
Thanks, man.
DeleteI'm sure it's a fairyland for people like us.
even this one could be. if only one could let it.
DeleteOut beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field.
ReplyDeleteI’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense.
I don't know who you are, but you've got the idea of my world spot on.
DeleteThank you. =)