I would like to write an epic
Heralded on the street
From lips of bards
Laid at king’s feet

I woke up in the wrong era
There is tapping of keyboards
The pen is an ancient weapon
When we are all digitalized sensations

I come from an era where we blame
The kids cry
While we politically correct our feelings

We’ve got the drugs all right
The antidepressants fall down our throats
Like water down the sink

Lock me up
I will say it
Lock me up

I am simple man
Time traveler
From a day and age
When broken people’s beauty shined through
In Mona Lisa
And buildings too

Well cast me off
I am but simple man
I choose to skirt the lines of simplicity
Like a meek monk
Or beggar on the streets

I do not have the education
To use the words of provocation

Stick me in my simple stanzas
In this business
I am derelict

We busy our days measuring immeasurable
Clocks ticking on the wall
Counting down the inevitable
I want to sing I want to scream
Not to have you check the bandwidth

I am burning alive
Fiery into the cold night I will rage

Have you thrown away the key
Because I am spouting off tangents
Are you even listening
Do you hear things the way I do

You sound blue

I’ve been busy
Holding on to you
And descending into madness
It’s just something I do

Descent crescents like the moon
I disappear
When we measure our success in views
I sleep away
Icy and cold

I want to write an epic
So fill me up with valium
Slip me softly between feathery downs

Remind me that I’m something
Not just something wrong

I blink between manic

I see colors
I seem blue

My jaw it breaks
Chewing on these thoughts
My body aches
Bearing the weight of these feelings

Wash me down the sink
I am but a simple man
I will lay at your feet
Because I have been measured
Found wanting and lacking

They measure the immeasurable here
And I’m the one that’s crazy

By Briton Underwood

2 thoughts on “Measured

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