All eye’s fall upon me;
I sometimes wonder what it is they see
in this tainted prophecy. As you twist the words of this constant
mind, creating fantasies to find in this stereo-typical story of my kind.
You search and sort and displace the truth imagining a world of five star blue.
But in reality, you haven’t got a clue.
Wrapped up in your cashmere sweater spending money to make life better,
always waiting for the elusive letter, and yet, you truly believe that you are better.
You gossip and talk, watch as they walk, count the visits of the old white stork.
You see without love don’t listen enough and wander away in another huff. But it’s
me in the wrong, it’s been coming so long, I wonder how is it that I’ve stayed so strong.
My life is a banged up box of tragic tales, seeds sown and phases passed and
long out grown, no longer do I stop and moan.
I sit beneath my tattered cover besides my life long lover and breathe the air
that no longer smothers. I wear odd socks and shoes that scruff with jeans all worn from
life and stuff, these clothes of mine they are just enough.
I am not the jeans I wear or the woven silk socks bought as a pair, for
materialistic things I simply do not care.
You will not find me in the words I write, they do not talk of the battles I fight,
although the truth in them is sometimes slight, this does not mean that you are
And so it is I sometimes wonder what it is you see,
wings out stretched flying free,
your haunting stares cause me to flee.