I feel the cycle, the repetition
When I allow myself to feel at all
The things we do to make our way
And lose our way
A bit each day
Love and madness are in the air
You only have to choose
The things we do to keep it whole
We lose our soul
To keep it whole
Life does not grow simpler with time
The crime is that we worked it out before
A door that opened, turn around – it’s gone
What’s done is done, but how to carry on?
I know the answers, the lessons learned
But the questions no longer seem to fit
The things we do to just get by
Today I cry
Today I fly
Space does not flow equally with time
The crime is that we’ve come this way before
A door discovered, find the latch – it’s gone
It’s all been done, yet still we carry on
Love and madness are in the air
You only have to choose
7 comments:
(((hugs)))
Love is a form of insanity I always say.
Better to be crazy than sane :-)
Oh my how you have instinctively tuned into my life. I am so there right now...
As always, you make me wonder what's going on down there... I hope everything's ok.
I have to agree with Wolfy!!
Wolfy - "Love is the only socially acceptable form of neuroses." A quote from a therapist friend...
Nilla - I know, honey...
Claire - No worries... my poetry is seldom is what it appears to be on the surface. All is just fine down here.
Each day drags on, growing longer. The light at the end of the tunnel remains steadfast.
Oooo... I like that. You should expand on it and make it into a poem - or something... I miss your writing!
I don't know, Papi. The state I'm in, the things I've found I'm capable of...in no way can be considered socially acceptable. My soul seems to be feeding on itself. No one had to make a firm offer in the exchange...I simply gave it freely like a junkie in a dark alley. All for the rush of feeling something. I run around in this damned house, turning corners, keeping busy, so not to allow the truth to overtake me and snatch away what little sanity I have left. I believe I feel the hot breath of truth on my neck...
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