Verse 1: Thoughts crowd my brain, if it’s all the same
To you, insane, as we walk this fine line
Of time and space, of Mother Mary full of grace
Not a waste, of a song with a time stamp
Chorus:
Back to reality, I studied the sun, the moon, the stars
The bars, the sidewalks, full of chalk and hopscotch
Hopping over stones, concrete blocks pierce my feet
To bleed, but I run from the speed of light
Verse 2:
Uptight, out of sight, to the morning light
After therapy, I recollect, I can decipher
Between the choices of life, to critically think
About consequences, and what they bring
Chorus:
Back to reality, I studied the sun, the moon, the stars
The bars, the sidewalks, full of chalk and hopscotch
Hopping over stones, concrete blocks pierce my feet
To bleed, but I run from the speed of light
Bridge:
In the morning light, I find my way
Through the maze of thoughts, I sway
Choices made, paths to take
In the light, I’m wide awake
Chorus:
Back to reality, I studied the sun, the moon, the stars
The bars, the sidewalks, full of chalk and hopscotch
Hopping over stones, concrete blocks pierce my feet
To bleed, but I run from the speed of light
About the Creator
Vicki Lawana Trusselli
Welcome to My Portal
I am a storyteller. This is where memory meets mysticism, music, multi-media, video, paranormal, rebellion, art, and life.
I nursing, business, & journalism in college. I worked in the film & music industry in LA, CA.
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More stories from Vicki Lawana Trusselli and writers in Poets and other communities.
"TELL ME IT'S SO"
"TELL ME IT'S SO" "ALONG THE WAY" I find myself feeling guilty at 75, because I am not working full time in a regular gig as society has crammed work ‘til you die down our throats. The economy is designed for working stiffs and the powers that have created we work ‘til we die then just throw us away. So tired of Elons, Jeffs, etc. etc. I am fed up. Yes, it is my concern because if I do not say anything with my background and education, then my blood pressure goes 'way high. Unfortunately, the ultra-ultra rich do not care and if democracy does not win, we are going away on the trains, and it will not be the subway. Truth. No conspiracy theories. My body is not a political pawn. We must speak up. My friend refuses to talk about anything about our bodies and regular mundane everyday living because the orange buffoon makes tying one’s shoelaces a big crime. So, knock these Nazis out. Yes, they are Nazis. I do not bury my head in sand.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶4 days ago in Petlife
Comments (3)
well written
This was soooo beautifully written! I loved it!
This is lovely. Well done.