Sorry

I’m sorry that I couldn’t find a way to forgive you when you made a mistake
I was wrong
I was impulsive
I was a fool

I’m sorry for blindsiding you like I did even though you were already gone
It was cold
It was callous
It was cruel

But it’s too late now to say I’m sorry
So instead I’ll just say let’s be friends
I hope that’s where the story ends

I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder to talk to you and try to work things out
I was scared
I was jaded
I was isolated

I’m sorry I could find no other way but to stay so far off in the distance
My thoughts confused
My heart bemused
My dreams overrated

Sometimes it’s too late to say you’re sorry
So instead you just say let’s be friends
And hope that’s where the story ends


Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig

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Heads or Tails

A sense of loss leads one to wonder
What would it be like now?
It’s a dangerous place to venture
Because a mind will always wander
To the more beautiful possibilities
Even if it’s already beautiful now

Revel in the allure of what you are holding in your hand
Take the time to appreciate all that you have now
Realize that on the flip side of what might have been
Lies a darker possibility that your mind’s eye hasn’t seen

Heads or tails
Make your choice
The one you follow
Becomes your inner voice
It can be your savior
It can guide you well
It can drag your soul through hell

So take another sip of desire
Burying the regrets of yesterday
What was lost you should never admire
What’s been found should have the final say
Burn the rest in the fire

You read the words that ring so true
They seem so clear and simple
Such an easy thing to do
But they become an eternal struggle
An unattainable goal not meant for you
You’re only human
Yet still you try
But you’ll never stop questioning why

Sorry, yes, but you’ll not make a sound
Far easier to laugh and buy another round
Always knowing you are forever lost
Wondering if you even want to be found
Brother, where are you bound?

Heads or tails
Find your way
The trail before you
Leads to another day
It can dig your grave
It can help you to live
You will get back what you give


Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig

Six String Smile

Talk a lot but don’t reveal much
Keep it inside, it’s better off as such
Better to live with the invisible touch
Than to be left out in the cold again

Just give me an acoustic guitar to noodle upon
I don’t need to be able to play it well
I just need to find myself for a while
Finding that six string smile

You’ll never understand but I love you anyway
Or maybe that’s the reason I love you
To not be understood is a blessing in disguise
Because nobody knows who you are today

So who are you today?

Always listen but don’t decipher
Pretend that you think you can trust again
What happened once will again occur
Strike first and leave it in dust

So who are you today?

Just give me an electric guitar to thrash upon
It doesn’t even need to be in tune
I just need to lose myself for a while
Trying to find that six string smile

So who are you today?

Dangerous Times

We’re just children living in a bubble of time
Trying to keep our stride on a razor thin line
Without ever losing our minds

We have no history except the past we’ve made
We’ll see no future but from decisions we make
Or maybe the hand of fate

Strange times
Dangerous signs
Entertained and entangled
Enraged and unraveled
Perplexed and bedazzled
Enshrined and untrammeled
Intertwined and dismantled
Strange times
Dangerous minds

Will we never learn from the old errs of our ways?
Forgetting the hard lessons from previous days
Wandering lost in a haze

Choosing to ignore what’s right in front of our eyes
Pretending denial will somehow make us wise
Paving the road to demise


Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig

Where They Truly Belong

Off in the distance, the memories sail by
On the wind from an intoxicating serum
Unbeknownst to their destiny or where they truly belong
Riding high in the sky
Sweet embers of the past
Sour questions of why

Into the future, a safe harbor of hope
In the bay for expiring dreamscapes
Keeping the innermost secrets where they truly belong
Buried deep underground
Waiting to be exposed
Hoping to not be found

Is there really a question of right or wrong
When the minstrel of the heart sings its song
Keeping its secrets where they truly belong?

Now in this moment, a connection of souls
From what was lost in blind innocence
Insurmountable passions kept where they truly belong
In a world of their own
Hidden from hence forth
Never shall they be known

Archived in regret, right where they truly belong


Copyright © 2016 Mr. Flying Pig