Rock.

I've lost a lot of things over the years
my life has changed a lot over the years
there's a stream of people and events
of heart-pounding expectation, of elation
that has washed over, around, and past me
I am like a rock who sits in his chair of silt
and reflects on all that he has fleetingly seen
and played bit parts in, and still he is here
but he feels so old.

I woke up to the sound of a young woman humming
I couldn't be sure who it was as first
then I smiled and a a warmth grew over me
when I recognizeed my daughter's lullaby
and then my chest caved in with ice
as I realized, I was alone in a strange place
that has never gotten any less strange
i still feel my "home" and my "family" await
somehow, if only I could pierce this
onionskind of dreams.

I cried a lot and felt helpless, I've been cruel
in retaliation derserved or not, I've questioned
reality itself so many times, still no one understands
I refuse to believe I am the only thing real
the problem therefore lies within me
how the hell did life become what's all around me?
I was a good child, I was kind; I let others in line
before me, said please and thank you and I had
the type of searching mind that was encouraged then
in the schoolyard fens, a frog leaps for cover as I
wonder what it is after.

Now those faculties have turned a game into craziness
I thought it was cool to be dark and inscrutable
I messed up my body and my mind trying to be different
and win the affections of mystery princesses
who probably never existed except in my dreams
and I climbed fences and crashed my bicycle
looking for pain and sympathy, spoke like John Lennon
about peace and individuality, pets cats to make
them happy, tried to raise a child and avoid a wife
I did 1/100th of the things I dream about in life
for so timid was I.

I've lost a lot of people over the years
time has washed them downstream over the years
there's a flood of memories and lost time
confused years where I never connected, where
I tried, and felt that I had lost my mind
I am still that rock sitting in his chair of silt
reflecting on all those things that could have been
I no longer play any part, I just watch now
Waiting for Godot.