Wednesday, 19 September 2012

A Gypsy's Key

I have the key,
I've got the key
But to what,
Who knows where;
Or how to get there
Or why. Still
And still I try.

Sometimes I sit and beside me I cry,
Where I look
Of all I search.
I try try try
But it doesnt fit,
There is no place that seems to be
To fit the me, to fit this key.

Give it up
Show me the way, this goddamned noise
Deafening me
Drilling into my skull,
Letting it all drip out

Then I am nothing but a mess
A puddle on the floor
Crying on the key.

Is that the door?

1 comment:

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