Surreal and unattached on an issue no one knows
The look in the mirror, the parting of doors
brick by brick the walls have grown strong
love thyself, know theyself, how could one go so wrong
with nothing to hold down, or even to catch
the body will float up, only minds the net
letting them down, each goal, one by one
the soldiers they carry, desperate to do no harm
not even doctors, of hypocritical oath
could soothe the tanning of a mind fresh with rope
wrapped tightly and entwined with needles in fear
closing eyes to the blind, and soldering ears
layered in cake, yet no time to have it
only metaphor's left, own tongue defeated
looking out through the window at the back of a mind
irony, unwanted, but never short on supply
The feel of a cloth, cut from the parents own
doomed not to follow, what no oracle foretold
yellow life, a crippling and souring regret
without those to alleviate, what to do with the stress
unleath the inquisition, no rock will be go unturned
hunting grounds of emotion, seeking out that one word