Cycle

I can say

The air is heavy
is it snow, or is it rain?

I can say

My lids are closing
though awake I must remain

I can say

A thousand things
that have all been said before

And still you will not know
how long I’ve paced the –

—-

I can tell

You that I love the sun
but sleep throughout the day

I can tell

My mother that I’m home
but then again I’ll stray

I can tell

A teacher I’ve worked hard
but, of course, I never touched my pen

And still you will not know
how many prayers I’ve prayed: Ah –

—-

I may lie

Down on my bedroom floor
having torn off all the sheets

I may lie

Or run or skip or jump
Through cold and empty streets

I may lie

Alone at night, sleeping
with a forked and bitter tongue

And still I’d feel the distant pain:
words unheard still –

—-

I well know

The suffering in the hearts of men
for long I’ve felt the blows.

I well know

The taste of bloody words
that come from mouths of foes.

I well know

How you long to devote
your soul to keeping quiet

But I don’t know, nor ever will
how to quell the –

—-

Here he comes

Mean hearts have stung
this lonely man who walks at night

Here he comes

Under starry skies
under cloud and through moonlight

Here he comes

Through tree and bush
over ocean, river, levee

And still he doesn’t know
How his heart could feel so –

—-

I have seen

How broken hearts can riot
and how they can also just give up

I have seen

This broken man who slanders
so he may drink from loving cup

I have seen

All my own failures, have tasted my
regret, and from these I cannot run.

Because of this I cannot know
the simple pleasure of day’s –

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