Who's to say

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We just stroll on down the road, as we distribute this

heavy load, of broken promises and broken dreams,

love isn’t always as it seems.

 

Who’s to say we belong, forever nomadic in a song,

how much hope, can we cope, as the world watches

closely under a microscope, who’s to say it should be

that way, a fabrication of love in decay.

 

In the darkness of the night, we dream of perfection in

black and white, empty hearts and empty souls, come

together in valleys and knolls.

 

So many miles have come between, everyday a inverted

monochrome scene, when did it start and where will it

end, were we really together just to condescend?

 

Isn’t love pretentious, when spied through the eyes of a

fool, every word sarcastic, enforcing the villainous gag rule.

Still we roll with desperate need, in search of passion at

blinding speed. Has it always been this way, a sort of

perverse judgment day?

 

Author's Note

Reviews

[Lachenille Papillion]

I have to tell you, took me several minutes just to get past that exquisite picture to the wondrous words that followed. Your mind is amazing... Who's to say??? I don't know...

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

Delightful cadence to this piece. With much wisdom. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha