A Man

Longing for a reason to go on.
Crying deep inside each time
they play those old love songs.
Moving on while all the world stands still.
Icy cold, the blanketing of snow.

Push the grieving back another step.
Wallow in the feel of your regret.
But never stop to make amends.
The pretense mustn't end.

Pretending that you love them all.
Not caring if they rise or fall
into the traps you helped to set today.
Mental mines that can destroy are real.

Deny your great insanity.
It's better if the others grieve instead.
And if perchance, they tell the truth,
destroy them and replace them
with a youth who never had
the chance to know.

Bag them up and cart them off.
Quiet them with pills that leave
a chilling kind of quiet in their eyes.
Tell yourself their death is imminent.
Then turn around and vent another
round of rage on them.

And then go on, repeating all the wrongs.
Emotion isn't really real at all.
Keep rising from that fall into your heart.
Don't listen when your soul cries out.
Just raise another shout to drown it out.

Curse the name of fate and destiny.
Still longing for a reason to go on.
Crying deep inside each time
they play those old love songs.
Moving on, while all the world stands still.
Icy cold, the blanketing of snow.

Winter has arrived and will not leave.
Dead, the leaves that blow around the tombs.
Empty feelings fill the womb
that brought you life in time.

Why is it that the world you know
just doesn't seem to rhyme these days?
You've played the games through
oh, so many years.

What this...? The feel of tears
upon your cheek. They make you
think of weak and feminine.
This can't be happening to you.
...you are a man...

? Michaelette ?

12/21/2002
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .