Headstones -

I’ve been running all my life

Like a chicken heading for the knife

Inside the farmer’s pen

Most of me was left behind

In school where I first learnt to write

With my father’s pen

Mighty was the sword I thrust

Until the words betrayed my trust

And secrets gave away

I was young and juvenile

Inferno hot and volatile

I had so much to say

And the children in the park are playing

Suspiciously they look to me

Like headstones in a graveyard swaying

Sometimes it is hard to see

That all we have is what we need

I’m always wanting more

When you’re lost with no one else

It doesn’t help to find yourself

It helps to find the door

And the children in the park are playing

And the headstones are silently waiting

History is littered with

Has-beens who have never lived

Do not look away

This could be your destiny

Unless you learn that you are free

And leave behind the chains

And the children in the park are playing

And the headstones are the only thing staying…