THE SHOT HEARD ROUND THE WORLD


There is no life for me now, it is true ,
that is not meant to be lonely, and tattered, and blue.

It is only the lifeless existence of days,
that keeps me trudging onward, through this endless, mad craze.

I love him, I hate him, I am pulled and I am torn.
I feel more often like a fool, like the day I was born.

To choose this again, the pain and the failure;
to be charmed, and disarmed into repeated behavior.

I knew it was always too good to be true .
For my life must be miserable, and painful, and blue.

Happiness is not long for me;
just long enough to fool me into blindness, I see.

The life of a hermit, secluded, and bare;
is all to be expected. I must lose all myself in prayer.

Staying there, forever, comforted only by knowing,
it is my life, aloneness, the meaning not showing.

To all whom I have loved, and to all whom I have not,
my death should ring true , as the world hears the shot.