The pendulum keeps swinging,
Writing the history that shouldn't take place,
Writing the history that shouldn't take place,
With permanent markers that can't erase
Your lies and deception and fall from grace.
It is who you pretend to want to be,
A sad story so tainted and fabricated,
In the hallmark card and to the girl in the mirror,
Broken dreams adding up in unrelenting fervor.
Back and forth from fact to fiction,
Pushing past moral grounds and values,
Slanting to the constant fractured and blurred lines,
Until you're so lost to the passing of time.
It is like a trance, what the pendulum will do,
You pace yourself to its hypnotic rhythm,
You want him to be your above average Joe.
Unable to see that with you Joe can never go.
The pendulum keeps on swinging,
It's arc widening to its witnesses' berth.
So many versions of the story are now written,
It's just a matter of time before others will listen.
12.05.16
©Kerri L. Stanley
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