Sometimes I disappoint myself.
Holding the string of a balloon
Like Pooh's friend Piglet,
Too nieve to see
Holding on to the string,
Too high to let go,
So close to new views,
Forgetting to remember that those
Who come from other places
Where I see hope, they know there is sadness.
Where I see excitement, they know there is disappointment.
And as I drift to another world and glance back at my own,
I realize that if I didn't know better,
Where I know there is sadness, I would see hope.
And where I know there to be disappointment, I would sense excitement.
Life is funny that way.
The blurred lines of distance make everything sparkle;
As city lights twinkle from the far off highway,
Disguising the polluted concrete sheep pens
As magical, interesting, floating fortresses in the night.
I need to puncture my balloon and float back down to my world
Where there is sadness,
And there is disappointment,
And there is also hope,
And there is excitement too...
There will always be glittering alternatives,
Everything looks better from a distance.
Traveling down the highway or
Drifting by on the string of a balloon,
Reality is almost always closer than it appears.