A graceful spirit wasted
Is a a gentle spirit tasted
On the skewer of desire

An essence of lost dream
Is exactly what it seems
Like coals without a fire

So where am I?
Nowhere is reply
For something I can't find

So where are you?
Past person true
I cannot face you in kind

Once there was a dream
In sharp hopeful eyes a gleam
Of something better

Now is death of heart
Numbness playing his part
Saying 'There is nothing better'

How can I translate past
The myriad ghost's so fast
That keep me on this trace

Where do I go from here?
To find perhaps myself appear
In quite a different place

Or is it stopping still
Just stop everything until
I am worth someone else's price

For someone to give an effort
For me instead of make a report
And find filling me will suffice

I am a blind man without a dream
Without a light, not one beam
The self sufficient man

So self sefficient I feel dead
With no heart just a big head
No real hope and no real plan

In the end it looks good to some
On the right track, no more a bum
But I feel no different inside

Like a gutted, wallless building
From the outside finery wielding
But hollow windows and eyes deride

What can fill my empty orifice
These empty tables, chairs, and bliss
Empty bliss that fix of distraction

I fear to love, to let all go
To hope again in what I know
I am pulled apart like a warring faction

I am a self sufficient man
Alone I can't, alone I can
Missing everything still blind

07/09/2003

Author's Note: some for Tim, some from Tim, a lot of thought

Posted on 07/09/2003
Copyright © 2024 Oliver Drewman