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the little big man

I don’t think much when I talk to my mom. 
When I pray, when I lay me down to sleep. 
I tend to listen to the same old songs, 
& it goes on, on, & on & on. 
Come the sunlight through these wooden curtains is a dream I cannot touch. 

Where is that conductor? 
Forever waiting for my humble train. 
The rest of these cars are now filling up. 
I wanna drown myself in that ocean. 
Paddle out on endless sea. 
I wanna put pressure on my own philosophy.
If I could only touch your future. 
The one in my mind that surely doesn’t exist. 
Would it provide you clarity in my dreams. 
Would it bring answers to my questions on life. 
Probably not, I have no hope. 
It would leave me pissed.

The nerve I have. 
The feeling that I have to unify the future. 
I have given up on routing your heart. 
I have become last year’s computer. 
There is no chance for me. 
I must give this gift to the world. 
Whatever talents you think you see. 
They have become clouded & boisterous. 
They are hidden in memories of a girl. 

She may be my mother. 
She may be my first love. 
She may not have ever come along. 
She may be God, residing in heaven above. 

However it is. 
Shine a light on the edges of some dark place. 
I am still a boy who regrets his future & is just trying to save face.

Max BarsnessComment