| Empty Mirror You spread your wings, As it's kind of cramped, Big dreams in a little town. When you took off, With no backward glance To me left standing here alone, A shirt two sizes small In the back of the closet. You left me here, And standing still a time too long, Left me stranded, Trapped by the incoming tide. I could not find the words To tell you I was drowning. With forever closing in around me, Relived the then which became now once more. To leave the now behind And seek refuge in the then again, Saving face, keeping score, Throwing stones, stepping way over the line. Breaking all the rules for one last time tonight. When you look into the mirror, Do you see no reflection, Or is that just me? Is mine the only empty mirror, Or is my reversed image trapped elsewhere? |
| The Light at the End of the Pier We sit, feet dangling Letting the gently lapping waters lick our toes Strangely warm in summer's dying throes. We watch the rotating, blinking, hypnotic motion, Fireflies dance before the setting sun. And behind us, Beneath the neon patterns on the promenade The last of the evening strollers wander home. Nothing else remains, save for the lone seagull Declaiming vainly from the harbour wall. The only things left are you and I And the light at then end of the pier. |