i speak in shards of syllables
that are broken up like shrapnel
from the language of insanity
where i live in the capitol
there's a signal just below me
where my voice becomes imaginary
processed by machines in dreams
that fight for my vocabulary
a couple dozen people
used to know my body politic
fewer saw the broken soul,
the maddest love sick lunatic
and counted on my fingers
are the ones i call my friends
who kept my ass alive through
times i swore would be my end
i hope this can remind them all
of bonds made since we met
so even when i can't be there
the words make sure we don't forget
i know that things get ugly
and family's not always there
so you gotta have your friends close by,
the ones who really care
no matter how the girls play out
through nights that bleed like hell
we're there each morning after
just in case you need our help
to keep you out of jail,
or at the pub to soak your sorrow
a reminder that you're strong enough
to face the world tomorrow
side by side through all the seasons
no one else remembers
one october's just as cold
as forty-five decembers
for all the times we had no time
when day, week, month is just a name
it's just like minutes passing by
friends will always be the same
Chris Yvon
7 years ago
