There's a bare spot on my wall
Where a pride of mine once lie
I got tired of looking at it
And thinking about you and I
I loved the thought of having wings
To soar above, and to be free
But now chained with that freedom
Is the bittersweet thought of you and me.
I remember once you asked about it
In fact, I think I know your exact words:
"One of those was the Angel and Demon picture, wasn't it?"
And in that statement, I felt your hurt
I nodded, and you turned away
I listened to you cry that night
I helplessly lay down and watched
As your emotions lost the fight.
If by some chance you see this
Where contingency reigns not
You know where I'm going with this
All too predictable, my plots
But can you even call them that
When they don't even have a plan
Can you call them anything besides
Reminiscing about a man?
I'd like to think you sometimes check on me
The same way I check up on you
In silence and in shadows
As us broken often do
Maybe see if my icon's changed
Or if my songs make sense
Of course they never will, you know
That's everyone's two cents.
I'm tired of being teary-eyed
And your silence bears no aid
I'm like a Neighbourhood song
I wake up and I'm afraid
Or maybe I'm a grandson song
But unlike them, I do apologize
I'm sorry that now I'm the reason
We both have wings that cannot fly.

YOU ARE READING
Divided Unity
PoetryPoems about various topics in my life. A lot of the early ones...may be about the same thing. Indefinite runtime.