wailing at your future
(the one you once scetched out in wet cement)
at personal problems and recent events
and the surprising simplicity of dropping amends
hurting, hiding and confused
you claim you lost your authenticity
and common sense
along the last or the first of those fruitless errands
running out of strength
to guard your precious
ancient monuments
and too blind to jump the fence.
you're not sideshow personel
you're the leading actor in a weeknight show
so let go, let go, let go.
"some things gold are made in china"
i saw you jumping at the hint
now you're smiling like the mona lisa
while you maintain you're just a print/
