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Passing Days and Passing People
I live in a precious part of our little town
From where it stands, I have no reason to depart
The escape is what calls me but where is there to be
It's all some similarity to the turbulence I feel
I am of no different breed
We are of no different kind
We feel the same and live the same
And we all do wrong to feel some independence
The clarity lacks strength and the wonder lacks presence
We consider it normal because of the fear we possess
We've lost to the sad side but keep it on level
Denying its measure as we fall victim to the recoil
We trust all but nothing and consider it a flaw
An error of judgment in wariness and cause
We take caution as priority and are devastated by the truth
We take it so personally and then shut down for days
We lose touch with so much when our lives become absorbed
We miss the familiar when the consumption is gone
We live to feel pain
We strive to feel nothing
We grant ourselves privilege
We fall to our cunning,
And we're always taken by surprise.
