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An ode to the things it is possible to want too much |
Muted Beats A gift of time, a gift of love, wrapped clumsy from the start; mumbled, fumbled, not enough, muffled from the heart Stumbling through hurdles, slumped, I used to fly so high; so easily I used to jump, before it mattered... why? Why now, do I second guess? I used to have control; an easil worn, a canvas stressed, beneath a painted soul Stained such different colours, schemes, so many different shades; the places faces touch our dreams, the spaces that they've made Venues booked, left empty, stark, locations disavowed; whilst tickets bought long tempt me, mark, attractions not allowed with senses stunned and sights not seen, discarded hopes, unspent; guarded depths, long fathomed, dreamed, and posts no longer sent For fear that they may not take, the pressure that they bring; pray the lord my soul to break, this puppet from its strings A muppet, slave to things not bought, not wanting to commit; a puppet on a string, that's caught, a need you can't admit A want, you just can't let go, sticks, a dream that won't take flight; a symphony of echoes, quick, wing terrors through the night Skipping over common ground, that should have been explored; raptures, drowning, lost and found, 'midst oceans, depths ignored Such blue-grey eyes, light, singing bright, on rocks, the siren plays; with Pavlov's bell still ringing, trite, pools burn, flames hold their sway Electric charges burning, arced, so close, too scared to touch; when pages yearned, stop turning, marked, left wanted far too much Desired from the outset, longed, a gift of time, of love; offered out, with doubt set strong, ... sometimes it's not enough |