Monday, November 17, 2003
I am my own post-emo gig,
a rocking starlet on centerstage
stories belted out in songs of angst
of pain of depressed fate.
the desolate cities of my so-called life
crumble in each indie beat
this bright red strap holds more than memories
fingers flash by, electrified -
can those catchy guitar riffs echo my thoughts?
i play for me not for them.
when the crowds never stop by long enough
my faithful audience is myself.
a rocking starlet on centerstage
stories belted out in songs of angst
of pain of depressed fate.
the desolate cities of my so-called life
crumble in each indie beat
this bright red strap holds more than memories
fingers flash by, electrified -
can those catchy guitar riffs echo my thoughts?
i play for me not for them.
when the crowds never stop by long enough
my faithful audience is myself.
