Broken bells

I lay awake wondering when I'll be lead away.

Then I remember deep within, that I am not here to stay.

Although the words, songs, and stories fill my head.

What has to be spoken won't be heard today.

Am I for real a prodigy? A hero to some young heart?

As the days turn gray. I feel as I won't have my start.

A mistake is one thing but struggling for help is a sin.

Can't you see what I see? The days are just too thin.

A handsome face, but not worthy of smiling back.

Maybe I am just lost in these times, I now know the pain in which Oedipus felt.

If I could go back to visit myself, when yellow was radiant and blue felt fine.

I would be taken aback in the boy he was once upon a time.

I would sit him down and tell him the love he had felt.

The beauty of the east end country and the pure majesty of the west.

I would tell him they're dreamers like him, shaping the way to tomorrow.

The music, the art are what life is all about.

But then I'd get somber, and have to make him afraid.

I'd regrettably admit that the world is not ready for his name.

No, the friends will vanish. Time always tells.

The spirit will be broken, he'd be walking around with a broken bell.

A symbol that isn't seen till it shall fall from his hands.

And when it hits the ground, everyone shall understand.

I would tell everyone just like I would tell my young self.

Implant the love and laughter in the world around you. 

What's remembered is all they will have left.