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For The Record

Joshua W.F. Hale © 2014

On a journey through the past and a trip o the fast to the last.

Times change and memories fade

behind broken eyes and shattered minds

Weeks turn to months and

years somehow go faster

when the beat picks up.

All the things best figured out

before the tide comes

with the moon.

Friends and enemies all gathered

together in the same wasted space

known as my sanity.

 

Who can I count on, turn to

lean on and hold up?

Why wasn’t I told the day I was born,

where all my changes were made?

Somehow you’re expected to go on

pay attention, give money to the needy

and advice to the dim-witted.

It always seems to be me needing to change,

adapt, conform, figure out and understand.

Constantly left with a sensation

of hopelessness.

 

Keep a big smile and your head high

stops the world from asking questions, from becoming suspicious.

What are you thinking when you find yourself sinking

deeper and deeper, steeper and cheaper.

So far down you find yourself up

higher than ever before,

but more separated than collected.

Not calm but uneasy. Do you believe me?

Is this something you can see?

 

Ripples and waves from many forms

of hydrogen bonding with oxygen.

Ice, water, and vapour, freezing cold then hot.

Like the rest of us, unable to make up our minds.

I won’t let the question be. What if I had done that this way?

I chose to live life for new, deviate from the consequence.

“Hello cowgirl in the sand. Can I stay here for a while?”

Hopefully someday I’ll find everything I’m looking for.

The endless list weighing down your/my heels

but someday I’ll find it. It and all its inner workings

fulfilling fruitful frustrations amongst it’s other selves.

 

Eventually everyone gets the Blues.

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