Friday, June 17, 2011

Broken Hearted Pop Song

I took some Panadol
for a broken heart.
Heard drink was the cure
but vowed not to start.
So much promise
left unfulfilled.
Dreams were tunnels
Till my alarm shrilled.

Something once
uniquely spectacular.
Struck dumb by
clichéd vernacular.
Stuttering through
tautologies old.
Our history a cycle
constantly re-told.

I stand there proclaiming
the love you’re defaming,
It cannot be ending
but you’re not pretending,
And now you are crying
while I am still crying,
I can see you’re not lying,
but I doubt that you’re trying.

Formal dress in a
casual setting.
Enough to fool friends
who think I’m forgetting.
Reminded of peace
when I recall our trust.
But unease sets in
this futility of us.

No way back now
and no hope forward.
No solace gained
from being ignored.
Only the truth with
its ringing bell.
The sound of your flight
back to your shell.

I stand there proclaiming
the love you’re defaming,
It cannot be ending
but you’re not pretending,
And now you are crying
while I am still crying,
I can see you’re not lying,
but I doubt that you’re trying.

Here comes the rain
to compound our pain.
Its presence ironic
as we argue in vain.
At night I pray
you will turn and stay.
Only to confront more
diffident dismay.

And my bedroom becomes out of tune.
As a hiding place it came too soon.
You were in it too often before.
You were in it too often before.

I stand there proclaiming
the love you’re defaming,
It cannot be ending
but you’re not pretending,
And now you are crying
while I am still crying,
I can see you’re not lying,
but I doubt that you’re trying.


(if I was to guess, I would say I was listening to Mr. November quite a lot at the time I wrote this)

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