why do you write the way you do?
the words you rhythm don’t stand out;
and rhyme’s not what it’s all about –
just give us verses plain and true

i want to sing you songs of hope,
the hope i do not feel today;
i think it’s better, now, this way,
as for a type of link i grope

connection’s fine, but not for all –
for some are locked away, aside;
it isn’t yours to share this ride:
keep masking, pictures of the fall

but i would love you, if we met;
i could be maybe true a friend,
and secret sorrows yours attend
in fashions none are wearing yet

don’t try so hard, don’t even try:
the lasting touch, the warm embrace,
the fingers lightly brush the face
of those who’re really eye-to-eye

i won’t be held by your regard,
or quietly accept my fate:
it’s not too soon, it’s not too late –
to welcome you
to my
junkyard