Whenever I fall, at your feet...to let your tears, rain down on me.
I really hate that:
Many in this people don't know the real me.
or rather, don't care to explore
what I don't blatantly advertise-
the innermost part, the
me that loves to roll around laughing;
The me takes pleasure in rolling cigarettes that I won't smoke.
The me that loves to cry,
at the sentimentality of my mothers' handwriting.
The me that cares so deeply for people-
the environment, ethics, morality..
That gets exhausted thinking circular thoughts
and feels a compassion that will wrench me with pain.
The person who identifies with the sanctity of
a tiny leaf with curling brown edges,
the rivets of water that run through your toes,
the beauty in everything that surrounds us always.
The me that will stand for hours at nighttime
staring at the sky through bare black branches.
This is the real me, and you don't know it.
Many in this people don't know the real me.
or rather, don't care to explore
what I don't blatantly advertise-
the innermost part, the
me that loves to roll around laughing;
The me takes pleasure in rolling cigarettes that I won't smoke.
The me that loves to cry,
at the sentimentality of my mothers' handwriting.
The me that cares so deeply for people-
the environment, ethics, morality..
That gets exhausted thinking circular thoughts
and feels a compassion that will wrench me with pain.
The person who identifies with the sanctity of
a tiny leaf with curling brown edges,
the rivets of water that run through your toes,
the beauty in everything that surrounds us always.
The me that will stand for hours at nighttime
staring at the sky through bare black branches.
This is the real me, and you don't know it.