it's the moment of truth and i'm just sitting here
writing poetry
the world is saying "here's your chance!"
and i'm ignoring...
i'm seeing now how
scary
big
dark
it all
is
these people who smile just aren't
looking around
There's comfort and comfort, she says.
now it all seems like a horrible facade
the passion--gone--when you're not there
think of all the people i've fooled
there's no tomorrow or afterwards about it
i've forgotten it now--
no remembering
no reminiscing
that violent rejection reaction
the cutting room queen
i'm telling you now and you're looking dismayed
i feel like if i go on i'll never be able to reconcile
but what is expected?
i wish i could know
who's there to ask--they all say it's up to
you
what about when i decide not to decide--?