Grey cloud and a weeping sun,
In the Spring my troubles begun.
Daises crinkle in the fierce rain
crows do squawk a joy that’s feign.
Pulsating veins with thunderous blood,
disintegrating boundaries between bad and good.
Identity stripped, another statistic
A personality shredded by nails of plastic.
C’mon my sweetheart don’t you cry
all these bad times will pass you by.
Blind eyes, mute lips, an ignorance so bliss
Tell me someone, why I feel like this.
Who do I turn to when I feel there is no Lord?
Where do I run when society is based on fraud?
Small talk, fake smiles, we’re all so phoney
I want to be left alone; yet I’m tired of feeling lonely.
I never open up but always feel cracked
I’m so defensive, too many people are attacked.
All I want is my bed so I can curl up in a ball,
cower under my covers and ignore it all.
The future’s inevitable, things will change
once again my life is about to rearrange
I’ll make it through, I’ll adapt
but right now I’m a mouse, trapped.
Caught in the claws of the cat,
I either take a stand or be a mat.
These days my muscles have no energy.
I’d like a spirit healing remedy.
The strain of disappointment is too much to bear
my burden is hefty and I have no emotions to share
dilapidated memories of the girl I used to be
I feel nothing at all. Least of all – me.
The gribble's grumbles 