be free

every friday night starts the saga of the Camps.
who is where and how big can we make them.
along the beach the fires glow
but in the city it is the sounds you know.
i miss the beats, been so long since i danced.
and i am in sequestered with a cold.
and will try once again to draw blood from a rock.
or is it water.
any reaction some sense of reciprocity.
it has been six months
but know really i should just walk away.
cuz it will be the day i die or hell freezes over, or pigs fly, before a certain someone GETS what i'm trying to say.
but it doesn't matter
anyway
because certain sets are so noble
and unfeeling
and logical
and will never know
that what is right in front of them
may up and leave
if the truth is not spoken
say it
soon
sooner rather than later
it may be gone
fini
the end
what is the use of holding back
or waiting
when tomorrow is not promised
all we have is today

do you get what i'm talking about here man?