The powerful image of a hungry child
crushes my self-pitying thoughts
and I feel sad for the poor waif
that can't get enough to eat
and disappointment in the fool
that forgets his good fortune

If you go to a room
With an idle clock
Close the door
And engage the lock

There you live
For 20 years
And that clock
Moves not it’s gears

Will you age?
Will you wither?
I know its nuts
But I’m not sure either

No one knows better
how hard it is
to stop and smell the roses
than one whose hair is on fire

He no longer sits in the park
until after dark
looking for blue birds
perched on a lily white shoulder
For the hope of the chance
at such surreal romance
Fell broken
as the wind in the park grew colder

Let no more tears
Push against this leaky wall
For one more drop
will surely make it fall
Then, maybe at least
I'll be rid of the beast
But, the pain I want vanquished
will be missed most of all

There are times
when the atrocities
committed on the the battlefield
of my own mind
are the equal of anything
that happens in the real world
My sane and logical thinking
tells me that this is most certainly not true
But, the insane and emotional part of me
tells me that it is

Imagine the frustration
of one's soul as it observes
the mind and the body
thinking and acting in ways
so contrary to it's being