Today
Sometimes things need to be written to be said
Sometimes the singer doesn’t sing the right song
To express what is dealt with day in and out
What leaves us drifting on and on.
It’s not meant to be vain, or passive, but only the poem can bleed true
When at the end of the day, all that seems real is hidden behind a smoke screen of discontent.
What’s next? What is accomplished? That, it seems, cannot be answered by simply writing
It has to be said, to the right person, at the right time
Waiting it seems is the only path, and thus the hardest to endure.
I can’t explain it, but it feels like life is muddy with deception, where what is really meant is never shown true
I can only hope others feel the same, and more so, that others have the courage to agree.
Art demands courage because life does, and finding truth isn’t as easy as writing a song, or telling someone that you love them.
All we can really hope for is that at the end of the day, we find someone who feels the same, and simply share in the rush of emotions we call “life”.
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