Director’s Cut
Morning meditation.
Try to station,
Somewhere deep within.
Find some peace again,
You gotta reach deep to win.
The battle against the swirling currents of thoughts.
Break walls,
On which ,
You placed turrets on top.
Repelling you,
Until you grit teeth and get going.
Break dams,
That kept your real feelings from flowing.
You can only lie to yourself for so long.
Instrumental is sad,
No matter if you changed the words to the song.
The feelings remain.
Simply hidden from view.
You don’t take enough time,
Just to get to know you.
How many people,
Have to get to know two?
The version that’s hidden,
And the version in view.
In a perfect world,
You wouldn’t have to circus twirl.
Jump through hoops,
To find some purchase, hurl
Yourself around, doing gymnastics.
Who you were,
Wouldn’t be so elastic.
