4. cliches i say

i set out to write a ballad
that's positively valid
with hope and joy found anew
but when i start to form
words that would warm
they begin to burn with truth

i'm creeping over lines, stepping ever so slightly. i've tread on them before
this territory's a scary story that i'm not ready for
i'm reaching, trying to find some words so mighty. i've met all them before
they help and they harm, but as bad as they are
i guess they're helping me more

i want to sing a song of
everlasting long love
but i can't elude my angst
i have to keep nursing
the greyness i've been cursing
or else i'll lose their thanks

i'm scheming up a lie that the kids find exciting. they've shed some tears before
i beam with doubt and scream and shout until it makes me sore
i'm speaking out rhymes, too often reciting. i've said all them before
they sting and they soothe, depending on my mood
i guess they're soothing me more

oh the time i spend
to avoid that trend
of complaining to hungry strangers
but they just want the clown
to gently bring them down
with all of his tormenting dangers

i'm feeding myself lines i don't feel like biting. i've fed on them before
i've had my fill but still and still they plague me more
i'm repeating rhymes that i keep on writing. i've read all them before
they comfort and condemn me and spread to them
i guess they comfort me more

their poetic praises
of my slow hectic phrases
affect me more than i'll admit
they're poison and pillows
that subside and billow
my ego hates and loves it

i'm sneaking, trying to hide from the thunder and lightning. i've fled from them before
we run in crowds from mournful clouds that constantly pour
i'm dreaming of the time when the sun will be shining. it's set on me before
the dawn is gone for sake of songs
i guess they nurture me more