They’re just words on paper
That I cannot even read
If the book sits on its shelf
Because you want me here
It’s a fictional world
I can escape to for a while
When my own is as it is
I’m only going a few short miles
But you express your displeasure
That sets the mood for tonight
I can only guess you want me here
So you can start another fight
Rather than let me go
And borrow someone else’s life
If only through a novel
But you hold me in your vice
So rather than read I will write
And share tonight for all to see
This life that no one would want
Unless they would prefer to not be free
11.19.08
Light Reading
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4 comments:
Venting is good.
And I suppose this one is just about "nobody" too, right? :)
K.
No, this one is real. But the ballard really is just a song.
very nice poem - I like it. I prefer to be free - to share as I want to without fear of filtering.
Dave Barber
http://finepoetry.wordpress.com
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