Teardrops on strummed guitar

feeling of fall being far
the autumn healing
subdued this year
illusions, I can't see them really
and so the distances
and the widening distances
that are wholesomely near

I couldn't talk
and I wouldn't dare
might've been apart but best kept near
and I don't mind when you're here
and the stories of the sleepless nights,
the hue bound sky
and the minty wine

I wouldn't dare and I wouldn't share
holding onto everything
I'll take to what, of yours'
I have here
while basking
in what I thought to be mine

you know the songs
that were just made to rhyme
and the coils of thoughts that words
would never know or show

the twisted arm of this crooked clock
has stuck on the moment
it was made to block
the time it took
for the rain to dry
and the wind to gain what the air left up,
above, afloat, high...

the basket of confessions
in this one man truth and dare,
shared philosophies now untold and hidden
wisdom held dear

the art of music is akin to that of life
a seamless symphony attuned to a principle
that's no principle when you can't hold on tight...