My simple wants; my arrant needs
Cast aside for the newer fad,
I hang my head a deeper shade of sad,
The longing that burned me dead,
Leaving only a trace of my passing.
My simple wants; my arrant needs
Lost in the circle of time,
I turned in the rhyme,
Only just catching the thyme,
Of an older wiser sage.
My simple wants; my arrant needs
Blast the hated soil,
Of my heated soul,
The dry times I toil,
Once sold for younger profit.
My simple wants; my arrant needs
Haunting the world I lived in,
Ghosts of love drift in the din,
Of your lust filled sin,
Never more like the lore of old.
My simple wants; my arrant needs
Cast me aside, leaving only a trace
I turned in rhyme, just catching the thyme
The dry times I toil, of my heated soul
Ghosts of love fill the din, haunting the world I live in.
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Submission Name: My Simple Wamts
