I Listen...

 Here come the words again,
floating in the air like whispered sigh
Wandering above me,
wondering if i have seen them
Sometimes they call to me
echoes of their laughter in my ears
for i never know when they may appear before me

Let me listen, now, for another line
go back and read, just to give them time
Are these my thoughts i write or am i someone else
as the Witching Hour casts its spell?

Now, comes the vision clear
focusing my soul ,
the cosmic test tube baby,
hoping one day i might, just maybe, make it
Square peg in a round hole, forever on a leash,
always under someone or something's control;
trying to pick up the shattered pieces of my life
and make myself whole

Here come the words again,
there behind my eyes as i close them slowly,
wondering why i am the only one who sees them
Is this a gift or curse?
if i wasn't this, would i be worse?
why am i always searching for the next verse, anyway?

Let me listen, now, for another line
go back and read just to give them time
Are these my thoughts i write or am i someone else
as the Witching Hour casts its spell?
                   (11-02-10)