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Post by althea on Mar 8, 2022 16:10:21 GMT
She was a looker in her day.
She had to chase the men away.
She got lots of male attention
Which was never her intention.
She wondered if it was flashing eyes
Or shapely legs or slender thighs
That caused her to fascinate.
She could only speculate.
It might be her little round behind
Because it could never be her mind.
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Post by aubrey on Mar 8, 2022 20:17:28 GMT
Thinking back, it seems that I
Can lie beside you as I never truly did,
In afterglow -
No afterwords at all.
Only writing love songs when it's gone and dead;
Only paying words out in strings of half-forgotten sentiments...
I mean...
I meant...
I never really quite could say the way it was.
The first time that we met I said 'I bet that she's the one',
But I was talking to myself then, as always.
As time went by our steps entwined, unwritten lines drew taut
And I tried to find a way to make it all safe...
Into the play - what a production! -
Into the days and ever more suction:
You hold me close, but hold me farther
Away from yourself - I make me a martyr,
For pain and love go hand in hand...
And hand in hand go you and my friend,
You are his and I am yours and just cannot evade you;
My days a dream, my nights unseemly,
Stolen moments all I live for,
But theft is no way to persuade you
To come with me, leave him behind you;
My hurtful eyes try to remind you
It's all I can do to keep from screaming
'I love you, I love you!' - I wish I was dreaming,
But the steps we take all leave footprints...
Sooner or later the whole thing will be blown:
You will leave him or I'll be left here, alone.
Either way someone loses someone
But I won't mind that, I just would quite like to know
Who we love the most -
Well, I guess that's ourselves.
The days are strange, at night we're strangers,
Lie in bed and lie inside our heads,
We come no closer than as dancers.
Your eyes are change, your presence danger,
Won't look me in the face and yet
You kiss and make up the answer
To all the questions that fly unanswered, unreasoned -
Death in the sky, death in the season.
If you leave me now, it might nearly kill me...
Remember me?
Remember we three?
It all seemed so important at the time,
We came so close to wrecking all our lives,
And now it's all just song lines.
Time heals,
Time heals -
Oh, but I still bear the weals.
Thinking back, it seems that I
Can lie beside you as I never truly did,
In afterglow -
No afterwords at all.
Only writing love songs when it's gone and dead,
Only paying words out: streams of half-forgotten sentiments...
I mean...
I meant...
I never really quite could say
The way it was.
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Post by aubrey on Mar 8, 2022 20:20:10 GMT
When I began I was full of altruistic dreams, believed in princes and princesses, kings and queens - now I find they're all human inside, all bitterness and pride, so why shouldn't I be like that too? It seems that I've forgotten all I tried so hard to learn; it seems there's not an ounce of love or trust anywhere in the world. Friends - they're all harbouring knives to embed in your back out of revenge, or spite, or indifference, or lack of other things to do - in the end just who's going to be a friend for you when they kick you in the guts just as your hand holds out the pearl? It seems that there is nothing left but hatred and lust in the world. I don't give a damn anymore - I've only wound up betrayed. It's all been absolutely worthless - all the efforts I've made to be gentle and kind are repaid with contempt, degraded by sympathy and worthless kindness and love that isn't meant. I'm through with joy and company, I've done with pretty words, betrayed - there's no hiding-place anywhere in the world. I've nothing left to fight for except making my passion heard - I don't believe in anything anywhere in the world.
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