Someday love will find you
And ask of where you’ve been
You in your motion picture
Might call it a magical thing
For those of you who stand there looking
It’s the worst kind of sin
With empty eyes
And jagged stares
You’ll pierce its heart
Bleed a voice
It won’t be the wounded love
The incessant cry might be yours
But then maybe
You’ll stay there soundless
Hard and numb
Whispery sorrows waiting to benumb
Feet will be heavy
Ground quick sand
You in the middle
Nothing to understand
Or it might be you
The happy and the creep
Standing there laughing
Calling it nature’s cheek
You the almighty
And god your meddling freak
Better off than that crazy one
Who walks back all the way
Finds love in the middle of the street one day
And traverses the path everyday
Passing by the ghettos
Where those waiting for love’s arrival stay
The crooked and the hungry
Pitiable in their own pathetic way
Tall will stand those who were widowed
By loves helpless way
In eyes of others
Calling for love to show up again
Hoping in the deadened night
Of comfort brought by his arms
Questions crossing thy fruitless brain
When loving will call upon
Which one would you choose to play?
