Why don't you tell me why
The face you show me every day
Is as good as a lie?
If I break you, will it matter?
Will it change my life at all?
If I don't have any pride,
Then what's the meaning of a fall?
The enigma of the ages
That we all try to ignore
And we say it's not important,
but it's what we're programmed for-
But we're above it. And I see
That it's all trivial, at most
What's it good for?
But we're above it. And I see
That it's all trivial, at most
What's it good for?
In a decade, it's a memory; it's a ghost
An ethereal illusion
That I cannot quantify
And it's importance is not great enough
To bother me to try
My hands are like the earth, they feel,
An ethereal illusion
That I cannot quantify
And it's importance is not great enough
To bother me to try
My hands are like the earth, they feel,
My mind is like a fire...
And the ocean swells in rhythm
And the ocean swells in rhythm
With the mood of my desire
And all this separated
From your face of polished stone
So when I face you, I'm laid bare
So when I face you, I'm alone.
And all this separated
From your face of polished stone
So when I face you, I'm laid bare
So when I face you, I'm alone.
This is a take on a common "Mirror" theme that we see in a lot of poetry, and I like it because it doesn't take the "Woe is me, I'm ugly" or the "Woe, I'm getting old" (though, it does a little).
ReplyDeleteRather, it takes a more philosophical approach, with the lines "If I don't have any pride,
Then what's the meaning of a fall?" and the stanza
"An ethereal illusion
That I cannot quantify
And it's importance is not great enough
To bother me to try".
Good job.