Unseen yet not quite out of sight
Burning Shapes creep nearer and nearer to me
Heavy and black, yet if I reach to touch
They would whizz and whisper away
Melting to wait in the wings.
Thoughts too many
There is not enough to learn
There are no answers and no room for all the answers
Walking, treading, beating, plodding,
But stop and see,
Wait for the moment when a hand reaches through the wall that you know
And grabs you.
Your feet are the wrong size for you,
They are walking the wrong stepping stones
And amble their blind life on a path set out for them,
While you are yearning behind you,
Through the flickering visions
To find that hole in the wall again,
And slip back through,
Onto a path where your feet skip lightly,
And no-one has trod before.
Where songs are sung for the first time,
And there’s fresh light to see
A different way.
On the wall, a pea-green slime,
Sparkles (sinister) like a rotting toenail
On a weary foot.
The older you become, the harder your eyes strain to see it,
And you wonder if it was ever there at all.
And the wall is lined with worthless treasure trinkets to sparkle
And glimmer your hopeful eyes
Away from the slime
That would lead you away from here
And slip you away.