windmills

the old windmills

in Spain, slowly turning

large cloth blades

turning and grinding

ancient grains of the past

lined up in a row on a hillside

waiting for Don Quixote

to mistake them for giants

with his sidekick Pancho

he attacked them

only to get his lance

caught in the canvas blades

thought he had been tricked

by an evil...

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Always on guard of the love you claimed was ours

as I looked up at the stars 

I realized I was holding onto too hard

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Suspicious, are you paranoid? You smoked too much, what are you trying to avoid? Cautious, why? No one's talking to but to the air you reply. Watching, looking all around. Seeing those shadows we don't, in the background. Edgy you're tweaking. You ask for drugs, what are you seeking? In a hole six feet under I see, it's gone unhealthy, beyond the point of carefree.

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There are moments in life where people will think your paranoid,

For what you see is not friends but enemies.

Those are the times where you must say...

"Who you see as friends with bright colors,

I see as enemies with dark hues.

To be aware,

To be cautious,

Is not a paranoid thing to do.

It is simply knowing who to trust,

When the times get tuff,

When all you nee...

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