I lose my way when I go to Wigan
And Bolton and Oldham, and such places
I drove there today and I found again
That I was lost in a sea of faces
Happy and smiling, showing no traces
Of loneliness; content and confident
They strut, and shut me out, but I face this
Uncaring, unfair scaring, scarred and bent
Under its weight, watching, waiting; I’m sent
Into this torment by my own demon
The only one who drives me on; places
His trust in me, though they all circumvent
Me in each circus tent; clown smiles, fake fun
Lovemaking on the run, heart-shaped spaces
No comments:
Post a Comment