I hear people sing beautiful songs,
Soulful melody about things they’ve seen,
The ones they love
And places they’ve been.
I wait patiently for them
To speak the truth,
How messed up everything is,
How charred and broken they are.
But in their eyes I see only lies
Hidden behind the fake smiles,
Screaming at them to let it free.
I was a child once.
One without a care in the world,
Running around naked
Oblivious of danger and pain.
Yes, I was only a child.
Crying when I fell forward,
Saying what I thought of everything.
I had a fire burning inside of me.
It had a certain calmness to it,
A steady flame sitting patiently,
Waiting for the big bang.
Maybe it’s all true.
Perhaps all they see is only beauty.
They may have the perfect life
Filled with beautiful music.
I wouldn’t want to take that away.
It’s an amazing way to live,
The perfection of it,
The light shining steadily.
I wouldn’t want to taint them
With the ruins of my imperfections.
I prefer watching from a distance.
I want to sing a song,
Fine tune made for people like me.
Lyrics simple and sweet,
Bringing smiles to faces that listen.
But I can’t without feeling more.
They all come rushing back when I try.
The failings, the pains, all at once.
Maybe I’m just a broken soul
In desperate need of a mending.
Perhaps all I can do is wish.
Either way, I still want a song.
