The man that was ©

 

How can life feel so lonely

In the crowded streets,

Where wanderers walk back and forth

The voyeurs sip their tea

And everyone has a friend to chat to

While I look for my belief

Remembering I had it

When I walked along these streets,

Standing tip to toe with strangers

Who soon I was to meet,

The smiles and the laughter,

Now no one comes to greet

The emptiness that hangs here

Casting shadow on the feet

Of people looking blindly

For the thing, they all do seek

A secret hidden far away

Underneath the growing moss;

A secret long forgotten

Just like the man that was.

 

For a man that’s loved and lost,

the feeling, isn’t clear to see

Hoping that a heaven’s angel

Will fall and rescue me.

Is this my living graveyard

Am I a plant between the trees?

Everyone is walking by me

No one looks at me

But everyone has travelled distance

All hoping to see –

But they don’t know what to look for

Thus they do not notice me:

The emptiness of vanity

That fills the man that was.

 

And yet the sun comes out for me

So why do I stay inside?

After all,

What have I to hide,

Just the jingling of thoughts

That rattle deep inside

And the shaking of the memories

That blister in the sun,

And the ghosts that haunt the present

Remind me of past fun,

But straight away, they’re cast away

In the killing of the buzz:

By the pain and heavy suffering

That broke the man that was.

 

So if I’m not a Saint,

The mortal sinner is my fate?

Why does it all have to ache?

If that’s what I am

How can I be damned

With what I’ve seen

And where I’ve been

A loser can’t complain

At lovers and the prizes

Gathered through the pain –

 

Which slowly ate away

And changed the man that was.

 

©Do not copy and edit, or reproduce without permission from the author (Abelia May) and full acknowledgement of the author (Abelia May) and website address

https://abeliamayblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/02/the-man-that-was/