About issues whilst in Cyprus with an ex partner |
I sit here alone and naked on a balcony My thoughts wander, I feel exhausted The sun graces my space And leaves me feeling wanted. The space around me isn’t so clear It’s filled with cigarette smoke and thoughts of my dear In a way the fog helps me to refine Open me up and unwind Caught in a place so hard to define My love sleeps as softly as sand on a shoreline, Sheets of blue linen cocoon her And her hair twists like gold leaves in the sun But as I am leaving her side She moves from pain deep inside In the corridor the maid plays hit and miss with the suits, She would never ever intrude, She’ll never have a place to boast, Only to exist like a ghost. Her position is to clean that blue linen, To provide and cherish anything she’s been given At the concierge the boss smiles to his arrivals, He’s got a grip on power and authority. But knows not to argue or judge, only to please, But soon those smiles become not so real, In a world becoming ever so surreal. He knows he’s no better than the next in line. The tramp awakens to the bright of day, Smiles as the sun shines strong, Because the warmth isn’t on a level and outcasts nobody. Knows nothing of wealth or prestige Still, her hands shake as she holds her cup saying please. And the fat man passes saying gosh I can’t see my knees |