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"Inspiration" by Eric Wayne Flynn

Updated on March 27, 2014


My accomplice

Flying through my window that I leave open

Good or Evil can come and go as it pleases

Whispering, wake up

Forever the boy searching for the man

The man shaking his head at decisions the boy had planned

Based on glory and praise

Consumed with concepts of fame

Dialing up prayers late night 1-900-No1-there

Talking to myself, then playing around like a monkey

Bouncing a ball in a driveway, recreating greatness and falling short

Hitting a few shots but concerned with the show

I was in love but I had to let it go

Changing games and changing songs

Pursuing sounds, keys to a door

Looking for my Nietzsche

Trying to class it up

Truth is

Something I always strived for

Lying, looking up at a new green canvas

An idea twists and turns and wraps itself around me

A snake in my garden, cutting off my circulation

After the pain of the poison

Ivy becoming my veins

Inside my eyes, my intestines

Enveloping my core

A ring around the collar, mastering the circus

Come one come all, a community of children

In the school yard, at the playground

Showing each other all the games

Shining at one thing or the other

Lights on

Shadow puppets is what we are

Dancing on the wall

Fading off and sliding down

What a sound

Harmony surrounded by brick

A fortress for us

If only the apocalypse happened on any given Saturday night

We would have been kings for a few days, and we were

We are

The best type of monkeys

Ya know the monkey typewriter thing equaling Shakespeare

One monkey here in a green room

I came up with me

Hiding out in the forest

Making love to myself

Walking around without a job or a care

Monkeying around

Thinking bout leaving town

Writing my thoughts down

Engraving them in a tomb, underground

In the catacombs of our minds, we find



Rewards for carrying the torch

Glowing hot flames of passion to light the way

Ink flows with no filter, what I think I say

My own rules, ruling my own throne

Inspired by you

The spirit, the energy

Brushes with death, painting myself into corners is always fun

But it's you, you I can't live without now

And no one can take you away

You're something to call my own

My baby

My child

My lover


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    • lisavanvorst profile image

      Lisa VanVorst 3 years ago from New Jersey

      Another great hub, keep them coming.