To  paper and pen, he goes again.

To find some truth, or whatevers
akin.
Yet, he writes in circles, no telling where to begin.
His questions grow louder, approaching wits end.
His answers slip through, fingers broken with sin.
Theres so many voices, and none to befriend.
So lost in a world, that continues to spin.

If he could only know,
As long as theres breath,
He's destined to win.

At first, he hates the walls.
Then, he gets used to them.
Until his walls are all he knows.
Trading freedom for retreat,
The cage becomes the sanctuary.
Who are you?
An answer not produced, but rather received may be the compass,
Traversing a path yet taken,
On a jouney not yet imagined.
Whose ending is the beginning
Of the life known by only one.

She says she wants this
then she does what is different
I say ill make it work
then go back to indifference.

We point the finger in another's face day after day.
All the while, the children learn that what's broken, only stays that way.

We both live lives our parents left us.
They gave us their chains,smiling and saying, "Dance in freedom as so"
"I cant dance with this weight"
"But you will, from your knees you will grow"

The chains made us strong, our wits picked the lock.
They lay on the ground,come with me, lets stand up and walk.

The children keep watching, they learn with their sight.
We keep practicing our preach, constructing the soap box to new height.

A temptation took root, begging formation...
Leave all thats been made, and begin with whats new.
But that story's been told, and reruns run dry. So I cast off that thought, that ancestral lie.

The game of ifs.
If I didn't have this
If I hadn't done this
But a game of ifs needs its fair play
If you would only do this,
what would life have to say?

The D word stays silent, taking syllable form forbidden.
I grit my teeth and question why this heart remains hidden.