Of Bitter Fools, And Ink Toting Tools

Skipped

Your simple as the day, the waves that roll in from the bay.

Your smile blinds the sun, eyes that shine as if knowing that you've won

You mock me, taunt me with your subtle dares. Always so close, but never really there.

You display your faults, mistakes and your flaws. You obey your lover like it is your law.

You wish not to be chained and stay, but to be a bird and fly away.

Sadly your wings are burned, clipped and brittle. It seems you'll always be stuck in the middle.

Never truly happy or sad, satisfied? You are not.

But to truly gain acceptance to your life that's so little, could mean thriving or failing, It is a race to win- though you cannot.