deepundergroundpoetry.com
Beneath The Surface
We have traveled across all these decades,
A pilgrimage of time and there’s no going back,
And yet my perception of us hasn’t changed,
Ever so placid when feelings never lacked.
But the emotions always felt so profound,
Locked in a bedrock paddock deep in the heart,
Beneath the surface silent without a sound,
Without pretense it easily falls apart.
And as we travel across all these decades,
Like golden pollen we’re scattered in the wind,
We look back and wonder how and why we’re here,
I reminisce of all the times I have sinned.
It’s a dream peasants and Pharisees have seen,
A zealous fantasy of a life longed and lived,
Like crossing picket lines and shifting paradigms,
From the depths, an echo still stirs unfulfilled.
A pilgrimage of time and there’s no going back,
And yet my perception of us hasn’t changed,
Ever so placid when feelings never lacked.
But the emotions always felt so profound,
Locked in a bedrock paddock deep in the heart,
Beneath the surface silent without a sound,
Without pretense it easily falls apart.
And as we travel across all these decades,
Like golden pollen we’re scattered in the wind,
We look back and wonder how and why we’re here,
I reminisce of all the times I have sinned.
It’s a dream peasants and Pharisees have seen,
A zealous fantasy of a life longed and lived,
Like crossing picket lines and shifting paradigms,
From the depths, an echo still stirs unfulfilled.
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