Difference
I sit here now and try my best,
To get these thoughts from off my chest.
To tell you all my ins and outs,
My thoughts, concerns, my fears and doubts.
Sometimes I doubt, within my hand,
This pen will do as I demand.
As tar within this pen flows through,
What difference do my thoughts make to you?
My thoughts are mine, not yours or ours,
I write as your one minds eye scours.
Though you say you know me, I say its true,
But you'll never know me through and through.
A complex mind in simple soul,
The chalk amongst the stack of coal.
Now tarred marks on lines explain,
No longer is this a simple game.
A game of hate, of love and war,
Of poison gas from roof to floor,
This toxic gas lies only in -
Another day that’s certain to begin.
Another day that makes a tally chart,
On someone’s wall or someone’s heart,
To rip ones soul from that hearts beat,
For time this seems a simple feat.
But time will play a different game,
From someone’s fall to someone’s fame.
No time for times soar simple feat,
So time won’t heal what once was neat.
But time won’t heal another game,
The game of death I'll now explain,
The game you cannot take a seat,
The game once started can't be beat.
These games we play until our death,
Where all games end on our last breath.
Where everything is left behind,
And all is lost within our mind.
So to tell you all my ins and outs,
My thoughts, concerns, my fears and doubts,
To let the tar run from this pen,
Isn't fair to you or them.
So as I said its just a game,
And everyone’s in it just the same.
So before you ask me, I'll ask you ...
What difference do my thoughts make to you?
Alec Brown © 2003
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