Most stories don’t have happy endings The brutal truth is that most do not For each hero who makes it home, In unknown ditches, a hundred more rot
For every song about some brave champion, There are endless graves without any bones For there was no body which they could bury Only lost names engraved on stones
We must admit if we’re honest about it, Eventually, Death claims them all Those who we celebrate after a battle And those who on the battlefield fall
Those who seem to be safe back at home Are also short candles in a night so late None escape the long-armed grasp, Of those pitiless stranglers, time and fate
Something in the Air – an album of 10 original songs from Trent Boswell, available on June 8th, 2022 at most major music streaming services like Amazon Music, Spotify, iTunes, etc.
Published Works
The poetry and music of Kevin Trent Boswell
Support This Work on Patreon
Magus72 on Patreon – the music, poetry, and madness of Kevin Trent Boswell
Author’s Note: This one is a little more fun if you read it in Tony Soprano’s voice.
I always defended my inner child Even when change, he’d slow or shunt I spoke to him softly, sweet and kind Never too harsh, rude, or blunt
But his juvenile ways sabotage me Constantly force me to fall back and punt It’s time for him to grow the hell up My progress, the crybaby tries to stunt
If I’m ever gonna get ahead in this world Any luck in life, the brutal hunt I can’t afford to have this kid in my way His juvenile tantrums, I gotta confront
All this baby does is worry, complain He fights reality, finds truth an affront His childish attitudes are holding me back I say, fuck that bratty, squawkin’ cunt
I know a guy; he paints houses, wetwork A reliable button man to bear the brunt He knows how to handle these things A backdoor man; alibi and solid front
I’m sick of his shit, bellyachin’, moanin’ I gotta do it; I’m putting out a hit on the runt I’ll murder this punk and bury his body In a shallow grave by the waterfront
good morning, all you beautiful people you lovely, angelic folks i call friend i want you to know that i’m thinking of you though fiery days, together, do blend
whirling quick, down the drain of time not seeing your faces, hearing your voices distance and schedules demand this of us circumstance offering no other choices
i want to take this brief opportunity to say that you still mean a great deal to me i’d rather that we were conversing, laughing than where and how we happen to be
more often now, do i have these thoughts since all appears to be coming apart the wretched state of things all around us… i think of you, how i miss your heart
each moment is truly a blessing, unique neither taken for granted nor guaranteed i’d pray for you to have happiness, joy if i thought it helpful to request or plead
but alas, our time on the big, blue marble ephemeral, flickering, fleeting, concise disappears quickly, precious little warning like a glass of sunsets, smiles and ice
tumbler, carelessly knocked from our hands by a stupid stranger, passing by in a roar an ignorant ogre with a love of wealth a disdain of beauty and a love for war
beastly creatures, not one, but many loving too much, to climb and to fall punching holes in our collective boat though surely it sinks and dooms us all
the cup of this world, spills over with promise wonders of nature, so much opportunity carelessly ruined by the madness of kings who with stolen gold, kill with impunity
we, being lovers of kindness and good seeing their greed, the destruction it brings it hurts our hearts, we sigh and conclude “i guess that we just can’t have nice things”
as we watch them ripping it all into pieces everything beautiful, too soon to die i want you to know how much i love you i’d hate if the chance were to slip idly by
i want to tell you that you’re all in my heart and in my thoughts, your memories glow i’d not forgive myself if i wasted the opportunity to let each of you know
just over the horizon, a banshee wails as we near the welkin, do smile, once more i’ll be thinking of you, as we take that step through the long, strange and endless door
Kevin Trent Boswell 