Friday, 7 September 2012


I am a passenger in an empty car
Being driven to tears without a need, it seems,
I want to be disappointed with the world
The kind that is manifested by wagging fingers
But it is not the view but the eyes that
Sting and burn because I am partially
Combusted, neither here nor there
The blackest of smoke dissipating
In westward winds

When I was ten I prayed into the pillow that
Tomorrow would be different
I could be born anew still holding on
To memories of that view and
Perhaps I could find my way around
A world which wasn't so brittle,
so hard edged and new

But the fuel gauge is broken
And time is stuck on now
We believe we say and sometimes
Too afraid to say even that
Because slow decisions are no decisions
Fear the day when never so slyly morphs
Into lowered heads and Default choices
Made willingly forever

'Couldst thou but see when the guilty hang their heads before their Lord, (and say): Our Lord! We have now seen and heard, so send us back; we will do right, now we are sure.'

No comments:

Post a Comment