Sunday, 7 November 2010

Nyla had me.

Some run towards
and run their whole life
so blind they barely survive
some think you'll get struck
and live life going by luck
some forever plan
and think too hard
some run away
but are never fast enough
some will have it all
and still want more
i don't know for sure
but i do believe 
the thunderbolts in us all
open yourself to the storm
and the world is yours

what else are you searching for?

Nyla had me weak at the knees
i would stare at her door for weeks
ready with a fist but afraid to knock
she had afro hair and denim shorts
white porcelain skin we smoked a lot
was the most talented artist i ever saw
a world in itself she must love to draw.
when she left i knew it was all my fault
at the door of my ymca i saw only her note
"sean i had a great time but I'm going back home"
understand i didn't properly let her in
too scared to befriend someone i honestly loved.

Aimee called me lightfoot
she liked to keep me at bay
always a lover but with friends
it was something she couldn't say
last time i tried to impress a snob
gave too much love and now
i again regret the times I lost
She's the prettiest soul i ever knew
and every kiss she gave made me feel brand new
But i tried too hard, gave too much
and she liked the want, but was in too deep
it ended with both of us in place we didn't want to be
a storm can't be forced in, i learnt that tough.

Some throw theirs to strike fear
giving warning to those yet to see the unknown
Some use their gifts towards financial growth
some silence theirs because they have no self-worth
Some are nervous what the have isn't enough
and get tough hurting others who are unafraid of love
it's the look, in they eye he gave,
that wondered at what point you never felt the waves
because a lot of men in london live for moments gone
we where so scared of the angry, gangsters of kilburn
the soldiers of cricklewood the warriors of harlseden
but as times moved on they're in the same small circle
they grew up too quick, and peaked too soon
but no matter how hard one tries
you can't live the same moment twice
you need to open up to the storm that's life
in order to get your mind right
a thunderbolt hit you once
and you did nothing about it
need i remind you you're the cause of your own justice
no government can help you
no mother can protect you
no father can teach you
no partner can love you
anymore than you already do
if you're willing to 
open yourself up to the storm, 
then the world is yours.

What are you being you for?

It's classrooms filled with kids filled with hate
teachers wishing they could be somewhere else
all the dumb kids, all of us where in the same class
Told there's no limit to what we can do
but all we did was limit our views
villanised by elders, victimised by newspapers
before they even do, we assume the will
so what's the point if that's what's expected of you?

after school i treaded boards with actors
in a world of creativity i saw so much strategy
i was in a place my whole life i wanted to be
and for some reason i just couldn't be me
there was a distinct fear i remember feeling
of not wanting to lift my head up in the knowledge
that all i'll see is another disappointment

Most move on
and poets cling on
to moments gone
and no matter whats wrong
boxers find time to run
the damaged deny exception
the loved ones can't take rejection
Bad comedians do what's been done
and good comedians laugh with misfortune
many fight for the party
because there's nothing else to fight for
trying to get another storm in you
many survive the frost from a dog eared cloth
many don't know what they've got until it's lost
We never seem to recognise the cost.

In time I hope to open others up to what I've seen
show all where i've been, maybe see where i want to go
I don't know what I'm trying to do. But at least I'm doing
People may not like where I'm going, but at least I'm moving.
I'm not fighting for respect but I'll take whatever is left
because I'm reaching for the stars with a Dhalsim stretch.

I have a thunderbolt just waiting to break loose
grateful for living a life where i get to choose
being wise enough to know you don't bite the hand that buys the booze
I'll take the help, so one day i can help you.
And before i ramble on any more, like i usually do.
I'll say goodbye and wish you luck in being you.
Because it's always harder than everyone says.