LIVE, at Tipitina’s
Why can’t I write like a sunny day?
Like a frosty day when the setting sun cries alone
Missing his Moon just over the horizon
But I do having something to say
I just can’t get it out just like Taylor does
And I found not every why has a because
And alone I bend over this laptop
Singing along with a 4 moptop
Band from Liverpoolland
I wanna radiate but I’m 500 miles apart
Why do I always sublet my own life’s part?
Posted on January 17, 2015, in Poem and tagged Beatles, cold days, Moon, New Orleans Radiators, pining, poetry, sun, sunsets, Taylor Swift, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Kitt
pueriles 