Swinging on a star
Never got me very far,
Yet I continue to hang here,
Swing here,
Cry here,
Dangle here...

Too many from which to chose,
It doesn’t matter, I always lose,
So I will stay where I am,
Cloistered in,
Gilded in,
Settled in,
In this tortured land.

Behind this joyous mask
I hide brilliant tears, please don’t ask,
I will try to explain
It all away,
Give it a name,
File it inside,
Say its only rain.

Swinging on a star
Won’t get us very far,
But we continue on and on,
Gilded, Cloistered,
Settled, Pickled,
Swinging here,
Dangling here in the rain.

Dena L Moore
May 14, 2003