GuilloteenArmed to the teethand brimming over with confusionand wearinessshe sits in the black dark alleystaring at the flickering streetlamp.She shiversdespite the constant remindersof the ludicrous global warming scam.There were no scholarshipsin the mail today;There were no lettersfrom those colleges.And the cupboard was drywith nothing for the weekend.So as she sits in her alleyshe wonders how it ever came to this.I wish I could love youI wish I could find the timeto want youIsnt there a medication for this pain?I wish we could be togetherDressed to the ninesbut feeling utterly threadbareand grungyhe takes his arranged seatstaring straight ahead.He shuddersfrom constant sleep deprivationas he worries and paces, late late at night.There was no money leftfor the ever-devouring bills back homeThere was no voicemail or textwaiting on the phone with the radio.And the letters hed writtenhad been confiscated, he suspects.So as he struggles not to cry,
streetsideopen your eyes.the sun is thereeven in the darkah, such streetlights I have never knownmy feet wandermy heart pattersan engine snarls somewhereand I do snarl back!such freedomis here on my tonguein my earscovering my hands --do you know?do you know?a joy, created from nothinga peacea bell ceaselessly pealing.ohthe fear that once bithas faded past the curtainsand I feel it no longeras I find such releasesuch sweetescapeas hot rivers of stifling sorrowleaking passiondrip down, trace along my jawand I draw a sharp breath.tears.for the first time in ages.think back,how alone like all along:arms outstretchedand chest rising and fallingforehead pressed to the floorshoes left by the door.soul feebly flutteringah, such light I have never seen!open your eyesthis I beg of youdo you see how I stand now?do you see me?theres a glimmer through the cloudstheres a map in my back pocket.this freedomcannot be sungor written of
the starving artistsCan you hear them, late at nightthrough the darkened window there?Coming through the dismal morning,brightening up the pall night air.Theres a woman and her pianoand man and his guitarnow singing low and oh so sweet,singing out his dulcet heart.Dont you wish youd put it downand live out your life like that?Because its where the skin is thinnestthat he dares not strike and combat.For the truth, the love flows right there:the truth, the love: Gods great boon!running darkly, richly, redly;like mars before the moon.Now simply, dont you wish you could leave,in search of something far more fair?Because sometimes, if you listen,You just might hear it there.Now please stay with me and seein the dark here, and late at night,you can watch them through that window --for tired eyes, a beautiful sight:Theres a woman and her pianoand man and his guitarwithout a penny in a pocketbut with a wish upon a star.I want to have this life
toga reflectionTheres a white bedsheetdraped over your shoulderand you laugh quietly to yourselfwith a sadness in your eyes.Is it the memory that haunts you yetor the strained future, taintingyour vision of the present?No, dont allow this to happen lift your glass high, and sing with me.The night is still so young, and there isso much fun to be had. Place a bet,play a game, pour me another drink.Liberate yourself from those anxietiesif only for these few short hoursand tell me how you feel in the morning.Now how did this get here?Theres a white bedsheet draped over one shoulderwith laurels in your hair. Oh my, how I laugh.Promise me youll never leave;and Ill lift my glass up high.