Sunday, March 27, 2011

Broken hearts and harem pants

The madness sings its perfect song
And how mad would that be
This madness has a mind of its own
And no method can it ever be.

She's racing ahead and racing strong
But her thoughts, they speed like light
Cloudy thoughts and broken hearts
Seldom feel right.

She runs along anyway,
So scared to ever stop
But her breath, it runs out and how
Just an inch away from the ladder top.

You see broken hearts and wicked brains,
Seldom ever mix
So, a part of her ran far away
While a part of her still awaited the tryst.

The madness crazed her heart and soul
But her mind was in a different fix,
So much to do, such little time
Weary, she was of the old tricks.

Peace was the elusive partner
To her exhausted, cynical soul
But her heart, it had a mind of its own
She tried to suppress its role.

Was it one straight line, she ran along
Or three sixty degrees of craze?
How did it matter, she asked herself,
There was no destination either way!

A part of her made bullet points
Of every hurdle to face
Then the other part splattered paint all over it
Naming it pointless, this mad mad race.

The mind it sang its own sweet song
And how perfect that would be
But her heart, it had a mind of its own
And no method could it ever see.


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