These words don’t belong to me,
the song isn’t mine,
I’ve tried to make sense of it,
but I read like a whine…
The tune is damaged,
it’s garbled at best,
my heart has been shattered,
how can I invest?
The future doesn’t know me
though I’m written
into the script,
the resurgence of sorrow
is hard to predict…
So I’ll face the music,
hold onto the wire,
and if they receive me,
I will blend with the choir…
There’s safety
in the shadows
hiding me from view,
in the sweetness of oblivion
in a tangle of hues…
My melody is outnumbered,
wounds will not heal,
but this is the symphony
of me being real…
I’ll quietly rehearse,
and give movement
to the mime,
enroll in the precepts
that teach humans to shine…
but if my strength vanishes,
and I’m caught off-key,
please show me
the cadence
of your humanity…
like wildflowers
in the garden,
almost hidden
from sight,
I bravely reach up,
and transcend
into light…
