Ramblings of a man who should not have a pen

[Miles]

Doesn't scan terribly well but meh.

Untitled

Well you can say the sun burns no holes in your skin
But for the same reason the trees scratch a starless sky
And you can say you've got a nice warm room to hide in
But there, there's no chance of your catching their eye.

You're thrown a bone but the marrow is sour
Averting your glance from stray pairs of eyes
On plasticized faces who charge by the hour
As always as ever you default to goodbyes.

You suppose they can call back if it's so important
Too hung up too strung out stealing praise by proxy
A miracle faker, a brain glassed with portent
And broken bravado and mummified moxie

[fourth stanza sucks, so removed]