sometimes the safe path
is not the right path
and in the end
it starts to feel a bit dull
like elasticated waste trousers
but as soon as you trust yourself
you will know how to live
and although not everything will go to plan
life will feel beautiful and evocative
like spectacular flowering fuchsias
can you find the heart of the story
are tears rolling down your face
I find it somewhat ironic
with everything that's been going on
that this is our new reality
a mysteriously empty world
going to ruin
in a post pandemic nightmare
and there's nothing quite as distinctive
as the sound of desolation trying to save itself
do you still dream in black and white
polaroid images capture lucid reflections
so that it feels like a split personality
are they your personal differences
are they my private demons
perceived in the immediate reality
that escape is better than useless passion
and intuition is nothing more than lies
something to be overcome
or forever lost in the chronicles of time
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