There’s a
feeling of no inspiration in me today,
Like my
ideas were off, for vacations,
Or my
ability to muse was a little lazy,
Out of
nothing, inside a thousand of fences,
Who would
dare to jump to the other side?
Radical or
not, call me silly,
But I rather
jump off this cliff,
That no one
seems to sight,
That all
the ones insist in saying it is not there,
But I know
is there, and I know, it is high.
Why to
crawl if you can fix your wings,
No response
from the service, okay, you are your own warranty,
A
screwdriver and a little of glue,
Maybe a
white feather or two,
It’s ready,
fresh and shiny, once again, like new.
It would be
good,
I’d use
this tip myself today,
As the sun
is fast going down,
But it is
still shinning by the other side, on the wall.
Yes, I can
see it right from where I am right now.
But the
lamps are on; even it is full-sun day;
And I got
the memories of a time I not even remember when,
Because it
is fictional, like you and me and us all,
Who am I?
Who you are?
Aren’t we
all this stubborn streaming of thoughts?
And I was
trying to tell myself it is easy,
Though I
know how difficult it is,
But who can
fool the own within?
We are not
that silly, or am I mistaken about everything?
I rather
live instead of dreaming…
Because I
feel like running out of things I never knew I was willing,
Exactly
like when we are in the dark, waiting for a light,
But when it
comes, it is too late for the eyes,
They are
used to that hole where we all have been left inside.
And it is
deep, into the depth of our precious lives.
And I’ve
just saved this file;
Has anyone
done the same to me right now?
Just a
click away; or maybe it is not as easy as it is in virtual life,
I can’t see
any mouse connected to me, and I can’t jump off this cliff,
Because
there’s a Truth wired to a heart, everything connected in an essential link;
Everything
there, inside of the one that’s me.
Patricky Field
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