spring
what will she learn
when she finally
listens to herself?
they mean well, but what they really want
is for her to submit to the monotony
of this life, faking joy
when it doesn’t matter
they mean well, but what they really want
is for her to be satisfied
pretending peace can be found
in the daily commute
they mean well, but then the first green
stalks shoot up from frozen ground
surrounded by mud and death,
forcing creation
that life calls her home
and each night she drives
into a setting sun
squinting to see
but there’s nothing left
with another day gone
she listens,
but still,
she does not hear
when she finally
listens to herself?
they mean well, but what they really want
is for her to submit to the monotony
of this life, faking joy
when it doesn’t matter
they mean well, but what they really want
is for her to be satisfied
pretending peace can be found
in the daily commute
they mean well, but then the first green
stalks shoot up from frozen ground
surrounded by mud and death,
forcing creation
that life calls her home
and each night she drives
into a setting sun
squinting to see
but there’s nothing left
with another day gone
she listens,
but still,
she does not hear
posted by Melissa at 3:13 PM
1 Comments:
They do mean well; and someday they might be right.
What promise is there in a sunrise that isn't taken away in the dark? (Makes me wonder how my light is spent).
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