see how the fields

4 tishri 5760/14 september 1999 *** 12:19 am

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i know that she never could love me

i know that I’m still not her type

.

i know there’s no heaven above me~

see how the fields are ripe

.

i know that she doesn’t remember me

falling for all of her hype

.

i know that my lover she’ll never be~

see how the fields are ripe

.

i know that she stands all alone now

under a tree of her choosing

.

wond’ring at what she has done, how

winning can feel so like losing

.

i know that she stands at a junction

under a sullen, red lighting

.

wondering how she will function

when she can sleep through the fighting

.

i hope that she someday will know me

I hope that I’m still not her type

.

i hope there’s no hell~fire below me

see how the fields are ripe

.

i hope that she someday believes me

falling for all of my hype

.

i hope my true lover believes me

see how the fields are ripe

.

i know that she stands all a~tremblin’

under the thrall of my presence

.

wond’ring at what she could gamble, on

finding the core of my essence

.

i know that she stands at a door~post

under a signal of warning

.

wond’ring who she loves more… most

when all her voices are boring

.

.

***** (inspired by john 4:35 and an awful bout of writer’s block)