No one ever warns you about…
About the damage it can do
To the bravest,
And no one ever tells you about the confrontations;
Or about how lying can be the subtlest of arts –
(More a craft:
A witching stick
To give us the razorest of edges
As a head start
In our race towards death).
It’ll make you sick.
And no one ever mentions about the hatred,
About the damage it can do to the schizoid and paranoid heart.
And I can’t remember how long I’ve waited
But it’s starting to pick my nerves apart;
Spitting on my spark;
I’m still missing every trick,
Hedging my bets,
Checking my charts,
And testing the tick.