(For Banothire, who always tries hard)
Afraid of further pain, loss and the unknown
But, is that not why we all have walls, and roofs, and doors?
Cries for some really silly reason
Well, haven’t we all been there some point in time?
Sinks in the wilderness of broken want
But, isn’t that why we all have tears?
Ashamed of what she’s made of her life
Well, were there not lessons that came to us too late?
Doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring
Somebody tell me if that’s not how we all have turned grey.
Gropes about for answers that still elude
Well, who among us living doesn’t paddle that idle boat?
Strains to see on the other side
Well, isn’t that what makes life so funny?
She tries again, harder than ever
Feels she’s not played her part right
But, is that not why we all ask for second chances?
Thinks you are out somewhere waiting for no one else but her
But, is that not why we all have pictures from some long dead distant time to sift through?
Then she smiles
Sings and tells of good old days
And wonders where those sacred moments have gone
Well, don’t we all look back on our lives some days?
Haunted by ghostly images of how life used to be
Fears someone might rattle the skeletons in her closet
Rejoices for the sheer bliss of breathing
Well, we all have reasons to
Remembers all the other times she’s given it her best and lost still
Wonders just how special is this once
She falls silent
Regrets all the times she’s said the same things to ears not listening
Wonders why they would like to hear her story told now
Must have not been there when she most needed to
To understand, and to be, and to make the difference
Well, who has ever been everywhere every time?
True, she fears under that guise
And breaks within that smile
But, which man lived and had no such pride?