On the edge of the ocean
Minding what’s warned
The hopeful man is dancing
But still chained to the floor
The clock is still running
As it rusts by the hour
The children are laughing
But the clown’s getting sour
Hope keeps on drifting
Like sweet smells on the wind
But nighttime has fallen
And the bakers turned in
Doubts are like pearls
In a line on a string
They shine before eyes
An unforgettable scene
Hands rung to the bleeding
And innocence gone
Large wonders now faded
For the threatened mass scorn
So chained to the block
An old man paces round
Retreading the trail
That just circles round
But inside his head lies
His youthful ideas
That are strong and so able
To break free from that chain
No comments:
Post a Comment