#47 - Outsider

It’s so close

I could almost tell myself I’m inside.

But there’s always that line,

There’s always too little time.

And I’m back outside.

I could talk and talk,

And listen till I drop and die.

But there’s always a bind,

There’s too little left behind.

And I’m back outside.

I could take things in,

I could try to jump aboard.

But there’s always a threshold,

Where the warmth turns cold.

And I’m back outside.

I could be me or at least try,

I could let out what’s inside.

But there’s a forcefield,

There’s always a shield.

And even with me, I’m back outside.

I wish and wish

I knew my own mind.

And it’s about time

It’s all about time

And I’m stuck here outside.