I am assuming from here on out
That there is nothing I can do
But laugh off your expectations.
The real world is seeping in
The cracks; Mediocrity is success.
It’s a strange thing to expect failure
And a stranger thing to stay
When disappointment is the status quo,
Because roses and parades and names in the clouds
Would end with a why-didn’t-you.
And roses would be the wrong color.
And the parade would be selfish.
And the name in the cloud should have included
A heart, not just letters.
Because, rote or not, if “I love you” isn’t echoed,
It’s not real.
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 9:29 AM UTC
I am assuming from here on out
That there is nothing I can do
But laugh off your expectations.
The real world is seeping in
The cracks; Mediocrity is success.
It’s a strange thing to expect failure
And a stranger thing to stay
When disappointment is the status quo,
Because roses and parades and names in the clouds
Would end with a why-didn’t-you.
And roses would be the wrong color.
And the parade would be selfish.
And the name in the cloud should have included
A heart, not just letters.
Because, rote or not, if “I love you” isn’t echoed,
It’s not real.