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Array ( [sid] => 156742 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => people watch [time] => 2010-01-17 01:21:01 [hometext] => [bodytext] => The bar is filled as characters take the stage
The young, the old, and those who hide their age
I stand like a doctor diagnosing their thoughts
Gestures, clothing, and faces I connect the dots
Names unknown to me I can only speculate
My vision is the canvas upon which I create
Drawing conclusions without all the facts
Their stories are true with a touch of abstract

Business man dressed for success from head to toe
His outside says money; his inside screams hollow
Polished hair combed fresh, freshly cut
His smile tells you he knows what’s up
Is his wealth and taste compensation?
Making up for a personal limitation
Is there more to him than a dollar sign?
A compelling story behind the headline

Wearing all black she appears to be Goth
The night attracts her like the light does a moth
Are her piercings just holes carved in her skin?
Opening the pain of places she’s been
Her make-up is dark and her hair is Mohawk
The mascara runs down her face like seconds on a clock
So easy to judge without even guessing
Something about her being different is a blessing

The 1940s called and wanted their hipster back
Imitating cool he is a needle in a haystack
He’s got the moves to ride with the clothes
He wears the style to hide the size of his nose
He appears above but comes from below
Posing as a mountain that is really plateau
Am I wrong to judge him this way?
Maybe he’s just a cat gone astray

She’s got legs that walk away my eyes
A short skirt hiked way past her thighs
I don’t have to know her to know what she’s not
Two twin sisters exposed shows me what she’s got
With every stare I can’t help but undress
As her clothes become obstacles that block the rest
If she could be painted then Mona Lisa would be jealous
The cover of her book is the only story she can tell us

Spiked hair, collar popped, frat boy without a doubt
His favorite band is probably Nickelback; oh what a sellout
He gets the girls with looks and charms
He has as much brains as a snake does arms
Perhaps there is a winning personality behind the act
But I got a feeling deep conversations are something he lacks
If steroids were a drink he’d call it juice
In his mind he’s always Maverick, but never Goose

She is dressed very nice and casual, definitely not a slut
Or maybe she’s disguising it like a band aid on a cut
She appears to be a girl worth dating
Or is it just a fantasy my mind is creating
Maybe I should take action and talk to her
See if my gambling mind has drawn a winner
Play out the game and see what the cards are showing
But I like her so much better not knowing

The show is over and I stand alone
While everyone leaves; taking their lives home
I have learned much and nothing at all
Tales tied tight with strings of truth and tall
Everyone I’ve met and everyone I’ve seen
Are but parts of an elaborate machine
They hum, combust, move, and break
And from them this is what I take….
All of us have something in life we can easily fake
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 247 [topic] => 43 [informant] => zedwards [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
people watch

Contributed by zedwards on Sunday, 17th January 2010 @ 01:21:01 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



The bar is filled as characters take the stage
The young, the old, and those who hide their age
I stand like a doctor diagnosing their thoughts
Gestures, clothing, and faces I connect the dots
Names unknown to me I can only speculate
My vision is the canvas upon which I create
Drawing conclusions without all the facts
Their stories are true with a touch of abstract

Business man dressed for success from head to toe
His outside says money; his inside screams hollow
Polished hair combed fresh, freshly cut
His smile tells you he knows what’s up
Is his wealth and taste compensation?
Making up for a personal limitation
Is there more to him than a dollar sign?
A compelling story behind the headline

Wearing all black she appears to be Goth
The night attracts her like the light does a moth
Are her piercings just holes carved in her skin?
Opening the pain of places she’s been
Her make-up is dark and her hair is Mohawk
The mascara runs down her face like seconds on a clock
So easy to judge without even guessing
Something about her being different is a blessing

The 1940s called and wanted their hipster back
Imitating cool he is a needle in a haystack
He’s got the moves to ride with the clothes
He wears the style to hide the size of his nose
He appears above but comes from below
Posing as a mountain that is really plateau
Am I wrong to judge him this way?
Maybe he’s just a cat gone astray

She’s got legs that walk away my eyes
A short skirt hiked way past her thighs
I don’t have to know her to know what she’s not
Two twin sisters exposed shows me what she’s got
With every stare I can’t help but undress
As her clothes become obstacles that block the rest
If she could be painted then Mona Lisa would be jealous
The cover of her book is the only story she can tell us

Spiked hair, collar popped, frat boy without a doubt
His favorite band is probably Nickelback; oh what a sellout
He gets the girls with looks and charms
He has as much brains as a snake does arms
Perhaps there is a winning personality behind the act
But I got a feeling deep conversations are something he lacks
If steroids were a drink he’d call it juice
In his mind he’s always Maverick, but never Goose

She is dressed very nice and casual, definitely not a slut
Or maybe she’s disguising it like a band aid on a cut
She appears to be a girl worth dating
Or is it just a fantasy my mind is creating
Maybe I should take action and talk to her
See if my gambling mind has drawn a winner
Play out the game and see what the cards are showing
But I like her so much better not knowing

The show is over and I stand alone
While everyone leaves; taking their lives home
I have learned much and nothing at all
Tales tied tight with strings of truth and tall
Everyone I’ve met and everyone I’ve seen
Are but parts of an elaborate machine
They hum, combust, move, and break
And from them this is what I take….
All of us have something in life we can easily fake




Copyright © zedwards ... [ 2010-01-17 01:21:01]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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