Thoughts - The Eighties

All my life I have wanted more
Than I could ever hope to have.
Maybe one day my soul will learn
That all you get you have to earn.

I have a heart that dreams a lot,
And somehow it all makes sense
In the early hours of each morn
When my crazy ambitions are born.

But each minute the sun climbs higher
My free spirit is stifled in reality,
And the nights bright inspirational flashes
Change slowly with the day into dreary ashes.

The heavy bolt,
secured so well on
the gate of my memories,
was forced open today.
The pain was strong.
I've strengthened the bolt.

I punctuate my days with memories.
I emphasise the hours with dreams.
I exaggerate the feelings in me.
I omit the essence of me, sometimes.

I used to be one.
Now I am two.
And somehow less.

My life is a labyrinth.
They don't sell maps
for life.

When will I see you again?
Will you still be the one
I loved here at this time?
Will I still be the one
You loved here in your time?
I fear not.

They say
pain
makes you strong.
And being
hurt
is said to mature.
If that were true,
then I should be
a middle-aged bionic woman,
and not a frightened,
lost twenty year old.

You were a ray of light
in a darkened life.
A breath of sunshine
on my battered lips.
Love we never mentioned,
never asked, nor cared.
We had enough to be
content, if not happy.
Why seek for more,
to spoil less?

Alabama

Last modified on Sunday, 7. March 1999