. So here I am once more, in the playground of the broken hearts. One more experience, one more entry in a diary self-penned. Yet another emotional suicide, overdosed on sentiment and pride. To late to say I love you, to late to re-stage the play. Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday'.
The first words you killed me with. The first Script to make me cry. The opening song on a plate of sorrow. The opening sight of my Poets eye.
Your words soaked my childlike mind as I lost on the roundabouts and swings. The Jester stands with violin and quill, composing tears on his broken strings.
I sat and chewed those daffodils and I still struggle to answer why. I grew up and left that playground but its the place where my heart died.
So I never did write that love song, My words just never seemed to flow. The martyrs twisted smile haunts me, my Harlequins head dreams in sorrow.
. *First verse from the title track of 'Script for a Jesters Tear' by Marillion. First heard this song when I was 14, I always wondered why Fish's lyrics spoke so deep with me. I only understood when I started to write poetry. The album is their first, and the first of a trilogy that also includes Fugazi and Misplaced Childhood. I am the Harlequin. PPx .