Tag Archives: struggle


31 Dec

Considering the new, the old, the in between, I go
To take a look at where I’ve been and where I’ve come to now
Another masquerade has ended and I’m off to run again
Invent a new one I’ll turn hope into again

I’m on this great divide, watching ships go by
Passing back and forth, I stiffen up and stay the course

I have no big surprises, just quiet compromises
I have as much as I would need, oh everybody knows
You’ve watched with puzzled glances, how I had all my chances
I never seemed to get there, but the ride has sure been sweet

In this game where I don’t know how to compete
And this history I seemed destined to repeat
Is this story I just can’t seem to complete

I’ve pondered every angle, every moment that defined me
I’ve introspected till I could turn in no more
Another made up personality would be the way to go
But I’ve forgotten now which one was me and what was show

And in this great divide, I’ve flagged down every ride
Missing every time the one that would be most sublime

© 2010 brent david fraser, all rights reserved


31 Dec

i turn around to see the moon, it’s dripping in the sound, like a warm cookie trickles tea,
i butter up my heart and bundle up my hands with holy socks that stunt the gesture of my plea,
along 5th avenue the monorail’s a snake through the wet snow that won’t hide my trails of tears,
my body’s tired like the breath of 20 slaves, and my dead man steps are colder than my fears,
but, maybe i’ll run….maybe i’ll run….

i start to drag, the pace is slower than the pulsing of my blood, like washing waves of wasted youth,
of all the corners and the crossroads of the world, mine is littered up with haunted graves of truth,
along 5th avenue the monorail’s a rope and i hang, while the cutting wind whips me around,
my body’s shoveled all it’s fire for me tonight, sweet libation’s liberation can’t be found,
but, maybe i’ll run….maybe i’ll run

a cruiser rolls, a bum extolls, a hooker polls potential takers, as the night throws down its cape,
i hum a funeral dirge for both parts of my soul, as the angel half is eaten by the ape,
along 5th avenue, the monorail’s asleep, like a grand ship that moors in ports of sin,
my body’s groping foor the mending of my sails, and i’m praying for my real life…to begin…
but, maybe i’ll run….maybe i’ll run

copyright 2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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