You heard the story
the one about those lovers
who met across the room
their eyes kissed, melting all inhibitions
No one told them there would be math
at least not afterMath
you know the part where one and one
make one - more that is.
Next come the decisions
is this one we keep or throw away
do we stay or break apart
Is my dream dead squashed by the reality of us ?
or enhanced by our new experience
our choices, made together or not
become the palette of our tomorrows
will we sing the blues or dance in green
bask in the sun or work the night away
There is no happy ending here
in fact, there is no ending at all
She and he - taking a wait and see
attitude - leaving me - the narrator
waiting and not seeing - how can they be so cruel
It is like reading a romance novel where the last chapter has been ripped out.
Will they learn to accept the fact of each other, you know the one where each of them comes to realize that the other will never be their ideal, that their kids will never be what they hoped they would be, heart break will be around nearly every turn, and that time will not ignore them. Yes, time will kick their asses, turn them into prunes and eventually kill them.
But that part has not been written yet
and may not ever be.
Choices are the roads we take
There is no GPS telling us the right way to go
We write our stories and hope we live to tell
©Frank Coughlin 2011
the one about those lovers
who met across the room
their eyes kissed, melting all inhibitions
No one told them there would be math
at least not afterMath
you know the part where one and one
make one - more that is.
Next come the decisions
is this one we keep or throw away
do we stay or break apart
Is my dream dead squashed by the reality of us ?
or enhanced by our new experience
our choices, made together or not
become the palette of our tomorrows
will we sing the blues or dance in green
bask in the sun or work the night away
There is no happy ending here
in fact, there is no ending at all
She and he - taking a wait and see
attitude - leaving me - the narrator
waiting and not seeing - how can they be so cruel
It is like reading a romance novel where the last chapter has been ripped out.
Will they learn to accept the fact of each other, you know the one where each of them comes to realize that the other will never be their ideal, that their kids will never be what they hoped they would be, heart break will be around nearly every turn, and that time will not ignore them. Yes, time will kick their asses, turn them into prunes and eventually kill them.
But that part has not been written yet
and may not ever be.
Choices are the roads we take
There is no GPS telling us the right way to go
We write our stories and hope we live to tell
©Frank Coughlin 2011
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