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I haven't had that feeling of drifting
Until now when I want to be loose from your strings
And when I can get that feeling inside
I want to move out more and more.
I don't find this really to be so much more
Than holding myself into the fires
Of what we once stood for
So I burn with my own scars and sins.
Have I tried so hard to get real with you
To find out that I can not get through there
To shout all I know and wish so much more
To let all the things in me go
When finishing finds that this is not much more
Than finding a way through the fields
Of all that we once knew, loved trusted and gave
And meanings of what we will show.
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I guess it is very sad. I wrote it last night with jet lag when I was too tired to stay awake. It looks very different this morning to how it seemed last night - some patches of it are okay but I think there are too many cliches in it without them drawing solidly upon the 'heritage' that they're linked to. It's not fantastic but it's okay to put these things online - if they capture the moment, as Larkin said poetry was good for, then they've achieved what they perhaps should have.
