The letter
I can talk to anybody but you,
My courage turns to speechless,
We never get any further than "hello",
And even that is a dream I have,
In a subway, a coffee house,
A supermarket, or even on the street,
Just to utter a phrase would be like heaven,
Just to even hear a response,
Or watch you shrug and walk away,
What were you doing?, over there?,
I saw you holding him and it wasn't friendly,
Jealous, no that's for amatuers,
Pity, just pity I feel,
That you can't tell the truth,
Even to yourself,
A bridge burned is a route that will never be the same,
Even after it is repaired,
It effects everyhting because nothing can cross,
Nothing can meet, but most of all,
No one can be or even express truth,
Pitiful, isn't it?,
Giving into you, I sold myself,
Never my soul,
I guess daylight was too revealing to me,
So I chose you,
You can get use to the cold,
You can get use to the deeds,
You can get use to the lie,
'Cause after all we all wear masks,
Cruelty is not all wrong,
Preservation in mutual conversations,
Extreme prejudice in mutual actions and roundevous,
I never thought hate would feel so good,
So hungry and so taking,
Of the true price that had to be paid,
Me,
Sometimes, I feel,
Sometime, I choose to speak,
But in all of this,
I was free and even selfish,
I just hope that one day,
You can see this,
And see me for what I am,
A tarnish jewel waiting to be shined,
As so you,
I have nothing further to sell,
But these words all of these words,
That I leave in this letter,
I hope it reaches you and reahces you well,
The dancer moves without a trace,
Poetry by Saga
Read 568 times
Written on 2006-11-03 at 06:36
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Sage |
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