It don't feel right
My skin's too tight
My skin's too tight
Can no longer hide
What's on the inside
It's causing fear
The weather in here
I think this is itWhat's on the inside
It's causing fear
The weather in here
My shell's gonna split
It don't feel right
My skin's too tight
My skin's too tight
Been singing my song
While playing along
Keeping it small
So I didn't fall
While playing along
Keeping it small
So I didn't fall
But I think this is it
My shell's gonna split
My shell's gonna split
It don't feel right
My skin's too tight
My skin's too tight
Inside I feel vast
I've let go of the past
There's no more room
I just gotta bloom
I think this is itI've let go of the past
There's no more room
I just gotta bloom
My shell's gonna split
then woke up as I was about to take them outside."
I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument, while the song I came to sing remains unsung.-Tagore
3 comments:
:) I do like this poem, really makes me think of myself.
Good to know I am not the only one ;-)
Thanks for the comment.
Wow,that's a powerful poem! This part jumped out at me: "Can no longer hide
What's on the inside." I, too, relate to this poem...for some of us sensitive types, putting our inner reality out into the daylight can be terrifying--especially if we've been delaying that for many years. Thanks for sharing this.
Have you thought that maybe the herons were there to guide you to your OWN books that need to find their way into libraries?
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