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Monday, September 12, 2011

The rather loud mime


So many secrets lost in time,
Burdened with an eagerness to please
Shallow rivers and stony skies
Walk with me at perfect ease.

I'd never call a spade a spade
Because I'd rather it's a tree.
Withered, shy and dark
Hollow, so to speak?

I'd love to cry for you someday,
The day, you'll let me be.
You'd let me go,
a long time ago
But you'd never just let me be.

Recklessness can't be the truth,
It's honesty in such bad taste.
But don't sugarcoat for me,
Your mockery is a perfect waste.

I've won that game
And lost it too.
I know them tricks,
Old and new.

So gather all your secrets
From different zones of time
Give me them on a platter,
So I can pick on each one at a time.

~

2 comments:

George said...

I like this. I really like some of the imagery in your words, "stony skies" especially.

Riddhi said...

Hi George,

Thanks! :)