What I Meant to be

I am no man's poet, I'm only my own. And I don't have a lot to write about, But I don't want to blend in. Please, when you walk away tonight, Say I was different. Say you gave me that chance. Raise banners of my name, And hang them off the building: "More than just a passing glance" I don't want frame, And I don't like structure. My thought's can't be put into stanza's. My words can't be confined by meter or rhyme. Although, it sounds pretty damn good sometimes. But I'm no man's poet, I'm only my own. I want this to mean something. Not just that routine one thing you're used to seeing up here, Because my vision is out there, I want you to grab it. Because if you're ready, My aim's steady, And I've got a home run coming right at you. But I'm no man's poet, I'm only my own. My voice shakes when I grab this microphone. I'm just trying to send some vibrations your way. My confidence bends at every bright light, But I just want you to see me shine. Really though, I want all of you to shine, Shine blindly with me, Just one time.. maybe twice, If time allows. Because, these walls can talk, Man, do they have stories to tell. And this ground can shake, Just to try and move you. But what price needs payed for those selfish desires? What's the cost of wanting to please? Turn around, why don't you walk these tight ropes. Try to get these walls to talk, And make this ground rumble. Get up here and show me what you mean to be. Show me what you really are. Show me how far and where someone needs to go to find a roadmap to Emotion. Where can I find the atlas to Embarresment, And where is the idiots guide to Happiness? Because it's certainly not in the arts and entertainment section of barnes and nobles. Trust me, I've checked. Show me it's up here where I stand. Because I can't. But I'm not man's poet, I'm only my own. And I don't have a lot to write about, But I'll be there when the wind stops blowing. When the leaves lose their stage to dance in, And when the water is too weak to wave in the ocean, I'll be there where the air is too thin to breathe in, Where the drops of water trickle down nothing, And shouts of lonely hearts reach no ears. I'll be over there, Where the city starts to narrow. Dreams of picket fences are smashed by the street cleaners, It's so funny how you can see a sidewalk in so many different ways. And there aren't many days, You find yourself in that kind of daze, Because I've noticed that even staring at street lights will make the stars in your eyes shine like tomorrow. And I'll be there for you, Whether you want me to or not, Because this parking lot is spot on to what I believe in. These street lights that wont come on in the evening, Just make it too hard for us three to ever again get even. After you just stood there, Watching as a torn heart ripped to pieces. What happened to being there not being good enough? I know times are hard and things get rough, but you have to understand there's just so much a man can take for god sakes. Because what I meant to be, Was a hero. Someone that people could look up to. But that's not the view I want to imbue into you. I'd just like to let it slide through your eyes. I don't have a lot to write about, And I'm no man's poet But I've seen alot of things. I've seen the wind stop blowing after a person took there last breath, I've seen water come out of nowhere, and screams of lonely hearts flood the cities. And there have been times when your street light came on when I walked by, Just in time, To see you see your hero in another man's eyes. But the difference between you and I, Is that I have Just. Stopped. Watching.