The Page

beautiful hands , music played
red walls, curtain calls
ransom of rumors , winter rage
silence reigns
you're gonna leave it all
on the page

red pens for a poet in pain
notes of passion, April rain
lost between the notes
of the music you craved
between the words you'll never say
you'll leave it all 
on the page

sadness wore a cardigan
wrote goodbye in red ink
no not even earthly  angels 
could put your sadness to sleep

they thought you unholy
blue was your glory
they were so right
you had to be wrong
thought that they knew you
can't sing the words to your songs

It had to be your way
couldn't hear what you wouldn't say
leave it all in red on the page

couldn't sing loud enough
or scream your pain away
you'll leave it all in a red
goodbye on the page
it was music you made


I wrote this after the suicide of Kurt Cobain. This was just a creative outlet, nothing more. No one can know so much about another that they know everything. Even if you didn't like his music he was here, he was a genius in his genre . And hopefully he has found peace.