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The World is Left to Stop and Stare

This stray amongst the lions, singing

Songs about the motions, while he

Shuffles on his feet, and dreams of

Birds and trains and oceans.

Inside a cage of pens and desks, his

Mind a whirlwind blowing, and his

Instinct rarely showing that there's

No real way of knowing. Be-

Neath the towering eyes of stone, he'll

Charge forth into worlds unknown. And

Maybe he'll make us all so very proud.

 

The jewel within the junkpile, reading

Classic works of old, and telling

Stories of a life she dreams on

Starry nights so cold. She

Takes a subtle gesture, turns it

To a work of art, and then she'll

Take a few steps backwards, turn, and

Then she shall depart. Be-

Tween two realms of parapets, she

Takes her time, but still forgets to

Return to the heavens she is from.

 

A seething mass of paper, screaming

Mindless riddling tricks, bent on

Giving you your fix, of heady

Sciences, for kicks. They share a

Bleak appraise of life, but still

Together it's alright, because

There's nothing they can't face, if they just

Shine a little light. Be-

Mused and disillusioned glances, and

Gaily executed dances. The

World just fades to white, and all is well.

 

A satin mix of music, and an

Air of discontent, disguising

All who can't repent and left to

Pick their cold descent. She

Strokes aside her hair and puts her

Hands around your waist, before you

Narrow up the space and dance to-

Gether, face to face.

Alone without a single care, the

World is left to stop and stare; and

Rain falls from the stars in darkest skies.

 

He stumbles round his words, and offers

Meaningless remarks, which don't il-

Luminate the dark as well as

How he set his mark. An

Awkward, crowded scene conspires to

Rid him of his dream, but still he

Doesn't let it seem as though his

Nature doesn't gleam. A-

Lone with just a pocketbook, he

Takes his turn, but doesn't look to

See if she has found her way back home.

 

He carries his emotions to a

Private place he knows, where the

Jokers never go, and all the

People walk below. She

Meets him at the bar, but doesn't

Take a seat beside, because she

Doesn't like this ride, and so her

Feelings are denied. He

Stares into her ashen eyes, that

Earthy depth that never lies; she

Sits and plays a tune for all to hear.

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Written by
nash-sibanda
Welsh
Published
Oct 1, 2011
Lines·Words
66·410
Permission

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