Words scatter like the bread crumbs around me
They fall from my lips with the intention to fly kites
But these kites have been fixed with weights
Virginia wolf is lurking by a pool
My pen sits in the plate…why?
I’m standing on the edge of a barbed wire fence
And people are taking pictures of me
The road is marked with lines and signs
Too many directions
I choose a true story of a story of true love
But can you chose?
Or is it only a song?
As I sit in the room waiting patiently for the others
I know something is wrong
I’m like a bed with no springs
A door with no hinges
Babylon is all around me
As I reflect upon my choices I can see
I’ve been doused with a good dose of cunning, self loathing, and pity
It seems the only answer is compromise
And the best decision is that of which is best for others?