Thursday, November 20, 2008

From Here to There

A poet once said
Don't ask me for that love again...

I know you who are there
Walking these same streets that I crawl on
I can see your face changing color like the days
When you pass a familiar ruin.

I too have played that chameleon game once
And I pay for those passions even now.

But so much has changed between our lines
Then when we did not know Love we thought that she was all we needed.
When nothing was old or new. I could lie then, without speaking.
And you believed me without listening to anything I said.
Such a world it was without a hell; only the promise of it.

Now hell is in my mind, in my clothes, and in all the bottles on the table.
I choose only one hell from another to consume everyday.
How can I love like that? Now that I know Love. She is as ugly as Truth in the old tale.

I know nothing. Except that they had us fooled all along.
They were only selling another miracle drug. And you know I don't pop pills so easy.
Now I run into people who've seen you mumbling to yourself at the corner of the street.
They say you look well and happy when no ones watching.

There is so much left to do.

I have little time left.