Songs bring me there,

whenever I wonder about who,

suddenly a few lyrics

love, passion, regret, pain, desire, the idyllic

man.

I wander along street corners,

when I do recall the words

bring me in return,

a place I suddenly leave

at every turn.

Yet I do desire the demand

to know the reason why,

I cry,

and the sky remains the same as always,

an indicator of time,

a place so far away,

yet still underneath us all.

We haven’t a chance to ever understand

the reason we bleed,

what it is takes our soul

wraps it around a tightly wound

circumstance,

until later on we breathe again,

wondering still again, just how come

we did ever decide in the first place.