Post by Ron Buck (halfshell) on Sept 25, 2009 6:18:25 GMT -5
Roulette (Ver. 2)
.
It is not so much I want another opinion,
or doubt the state of mind you've inherited.
It is more the way doors have opened
and closed throughout our lives.
I know most stories have a message or
moral for us to learn. The bad are always
punished and the good win out in the end.
I keep going round and round with the joy
of laughter experienced in the celebration of life
we never shared. And now, when I tell you how
bunnies with wings send hugs and kisses from
their little patch of heaven, your laughter is sweet,
but comes at a price.
At first, numbers were just a bother, a shortcut to sad
realities of never having enough, so you let them set
adrift and hoped they would just keep sailing.
People, places and times all fell into a jumble box.
The crank of its wobbly arm was never a sure thing
of who, what, or when would eventually pop out.
Words became obstacles to what you wanted to say;
the more you searched the more you realized
nothing was there. Not even traces of footsteps
along well traveled paths would inspire revival.
I can only figure the unsympathetic beat of tossed
die fell into our gene pool, tumbled with fate and we
now live in a space reserved but never deserved.
We fought it from the outset, but no leap of faith
will ever set us free. It will end when it ends, but
should it come to pass this cruel twist was someone's
concept of an amusing parable, we'll play the wheel
as if a better life is just around the corner.
Just Around the Corner
.
It is not so much I want another opinion,
or doubt the state of mind you've inherited.
It is more the way doors have opened
and closed throughout our lives.
I know most stories have a message or
moral for us to learn. The bad are always
punished and the good win out in the end.
I keep coming round and round with the joy
of laughter experienced in the celebration of life
we never shared. And now, when I tell you how
the bunnies with wings send hugs and kisses from
their little patch of heaven, your laughter is sweet,
but comes at a price.
At first, numbers were just a bother, a shortcut to sad
realities of never having enough, best left alone, far,
far away, so you let them go their way and hoped
they would just keep going.
People, places and times all fell into a jumble box,
when cranked you were never really sure of who,
what, or when would pop out.
Words became obstacles to what you wanted to say
and the more you searched the more you realized
nothing was there. They used to be there, just around the
corner, but the more you reached the less you found.
I can only figure the tumbling path of tossed die
fell into our gene pool, danced with fate and we have
had to live in a space we never deserved.
We fought it from the outset, but no leap of faith will ever
set us free. It will end when it ends, but should it come to pass
this cruel twist was someone's concept of an amusing parable,
we'll play our cards as if a better life is just around the corner.
