The Tree of Dreams

So Ask Your Question...

And yet again we stand here,

Just you and me old friend.

Concern is writ upon your face,

and questions cloud your eyes.

Like stars amid a cloudless night

they crowd behind your tongue,

desperate to ask the truth,

but scared of what might come.

So ask away…

… or shall I guess?

Do I work instead of play?

Do I laugh instead of cry?

Do I search for a way out?

Do I still try?

Do I drown in self pity?

Do I care? Really care?

Am I sane?

Why?… simply why?

Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies.

For the mirror tells the truth my friend,

I can see it in your eyes.

And the eyes are the pathway to the soul…

As sane as the next man…

Is that bad when the next man is you?

It is when the next man is me…reflected.

I’ve looked into the same eyes

for thirty something years.

Yet still there are the questions,

still there are the fears.

Sanity is comparative,

so I’ll compare myself with me.

For no-one else can know the truth

of what I think I see.

So I’ll leave you there,

you odd strange man

in your prison of silvered glass.

Scream or laugh, for no-one hears you…

Sanity, can kiss my arse. =]

~

Dedicated to my favourite Headologist for making me think, and occasionally your patience in waiting for me to think... it can be a slow process listening to the clunking of gears in the head of Gav =]