I had to be the yang to your yin
the hard nose to your cherry chin
I played real for you were the dream
I was the dark to your moon beam
You were the green waves that dance
You were the priestess in the trance
I was the rock on shore that held fast
To your stars I was the deep dark vast
You played the music while I kept time
You did the talking while I acted mime
I was the rectitude to your paths wanton
the moral wall to arrest your gay abandon
I was happy and played artlessly along
You played sad and went happily along
Till one day good sense came to me
Of myself I had to exact a tough fee
I had forgotten to punctuate
In my haste to actuate.
So I packed my bags and left.
The scent of bitter almonds lingered........
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2 comments:
What a dissatisfying ending- in more than one way. Good stuff!
yes by the time I reached the end, I realized it had become more autobiographical than I wanted it to....so I just had to end it with some obscure stuff and cliches. I do not like the ending myself, but that was essentially the idea.
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