The Better View

I gave it all away for a moment 
I would have done it for a second 
Because the truth us held deep in the mind 
And so very rarely does it find its way to the tongue
Or release itself from blackened lungs
You must live to regret 
If you have done no such thing you have not lived 

She told me she hates my depression 
Asking what is my obsession 
And why is it something never mentioned 
Did I make you think 
Aw sweetie are my thoughts finally sinking in 
I’m looking down with a grin 
She longs to be up there with him 
She’s wondering was he forgiven for his sins
In her mind they all added up and he dissolved them and drank them down 

“God has he found happiness”
“I hope he still remembers the kiss of morning dew”
“Will”
“God damn you”
“Together we were just the few”
“Alone we are just me and you”
She is screaming hard into the sea and praying into the sun
I hate to tell her its useless to prey 
I’m not burning in hell I guess I played my little role pretty damn well
“He had such an abstract view”
“I bet in heaven there is laughter only because of you”
“God does he now sing to you as if some how in cue”

Sweety heaven is made of memories of us two
and it holds no resemblance to perfection 
Because perfection is an idea and affection
That I felt down there with you
Can you hear me floating outside your window I’m singing softly keep time with 
the pitter patter of rain on your shutters 
I came back to tell you imperfection was my obsession

In the sobering hours, I realize this is all just a reversal of roles
And maybe it was what I was thinking at the time 
But in that peaceful serenity of screams I went blind
And my tears fell like rain from the sky 
My voice swelled and crack in steady time 
In this instance I saw the light 
Far off in the distance at the end of the rail line
I wish I could conjure up a lie 
Like it was dust in my eye

But I’m too busy singing 
About an empty shore line 
A misplaced memory tossed into the sea
And all that I’ve hoped to have forgotten 
Has gotten itself incapsuled in a line
Of some depressing song that I’m inclined to keep singing 
But after the rains the black rose will emerge 
And purge from my heart every haunting memory
Because the power of the mind is worthless 
If it is not producing fiction to soothe the quiet addiction of the heart
I hope everyone will see that the suffering
Is universal and it’s a course for all of us to bare

Copyright © William Hearn | Year Posted 2006

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