Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Blame Game

There was a place
Where I could go
Where windows would turn to sand
And I would understand.

It was a secret place
I would go
Where I would deformalise
I would destandardise.

These people in this world
Twist and pervert
In their self made factory
And labellise the products

They talk about love
While hating themselves
They criticise and prove
To those they look below to
As white shades their hair
They won’t even look at themselves.

There is this place
I could go to
Where I wouldn’t be afraid
These people are closing my doors
And they’re taking away my keys.

That place would understand
And wouldn’t judge sensitivity
My weakness would turn to art
Correction fluid would scrape off
I could embody me.

I realised
That place is not locked
I locked myself from that place.

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