An ode to a starry-eyed wanderer |
Desire to live a life less ordinary, the future no longer a certainty. And why did fate entwine our worlds? Like ships in the night we came together, To aid each other through stormy weather. And when the aid is given and done, We seperate and run along, Our courses set, never to meet, Once each of us is on our feet. For the fantasy is just that, And if a time came when we sat, Together in the sun and spoke, We’d find we aren’t a match. No pair are we, I’d discover, An existential horror. I’d realise I had hoped in vain, To ride with you in the rain. And my plans, therefore, I’d have to bury, For a life less ordinary. You hadn’t hoped as I had, Nor waited there with bated breath You weren’t taken in by such folly, No great party, am I to you, Just another shipsmoke on the horizon, Engines dead and passengers drowning. And so the desert calls my name, To sacrifice my body in vain, To buy my family a life, Just like the ones I already see. I realise now I hoped in vain, To live a life less ordinary. Cry again in a bathroom stall, Or lament a lost dream. A lost fantasy it is, But why does it cut so deep? Now I realise it’s dead and buried, The hope to live a life less ordinary. If I could go back and do it again, Rewrite my book from page 16. Would it come out differently, Would I give of myself so willingly? Lied, I have for many a year, And lost touch with a life I once held so dear. My knuckle hurts as it always does, When the turmoil gets it’s worst. And, the girl who lived on Gardenia Court, Still I sit deep in thought, And ponder what could have been. You see, I think, what I mean, A desire even then, For a life less ordinary. And my wife, to whom I owe, My life, my love, our to and fro, I hurt thee so very deep, When into my thoughts “She” does creep. I can’t stop it taking over, Thoughts of winning her over. And as it spread just like a virus, I read deep into her silence, Analysing every word, Praying in some way to be heard. But heard or not, she does not Reveal her thoughts to me. Guiltfully I hope, She pines for me as I her, Never seeing the obvious sign, I am nothing there as here. And so wistfully I pine, For a life somewhat like thine, A life less ordinary. And even if the life I seek, Was suddenly to be mine, Would I not then just wish, For the life I had left behind? Do not concern yourself, Or ask yourself why, I just attack myself, And can’t understand why. Just know this, I hope you take heart, That if I left this world tomorrow, It is you i’d ask to watch over, Guide and guard to the last, And finally achieve what I had always sought, A life less ordinary. |