Fair ground.
My heads spinning like a merry-go-round as we go back and fourth
like a swing, i can barely touch the ground. My minds in a daze,
am I in a maze? You’re taking me the wrong way we’re lost.
Which way now? There are the clowns; I want to get out of this town.
Just remember – love isn’t a fair ground.
Love is for fools ?
No , you’ll break that !
Its already tattered and worn. So hold it close.
Where it can’t be anymore torn. But why ? I ask.
Yes , you can end up broken and in tears.
But you can also end up having someone to fight your
Fears. And hold your hand when no one else is there.
Love is for fools , that choose to be free.
You gave me these wings , so lets fly away.
Woodspurge
The wind flapped loose, the wind was still,
Shaken out dead from tree and hill:
I had walk’d on at the wind’s will,—
I sat now, for the wind was still.
Between my knees my forehead was,—
My lips, drawn in, said not Alas!
My hair was over in the grass,
My naked ears heard the day pass.
My eyes, wide open, had the run
Of some ten weeds to fix upon;
Among those few, out of the sun,
The woodspurge flower’d, three cups in one.
From perfect grief there need not be
Wisdom or even memory:
One thing learnt remains to me,—
The woodspurge has a cup of three.
The only way is forward
Each step I take brings me some where new.
And maybe even strange. The taste , the smell.
It’s sort of overwhelming at first , don’t you think ?
But thats okay because to me … whatever lies
ahead is fate. And the only one who can decide
that fate is the one wearing the shoes.
So it’s up to you – either you turn back
or wear in your shoes black.
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