The Tunnel

Searching for that small thing lost
Slipped underneath some time ago
And now you look towards the stars
Fooling yourself that you've outshone the past.

Scrambling fingers try to grip
The scattering skin. Soon,
They'll be trickling through the bars.
And all you wanted was to be happy.

You stand so high, yet feel so low.
You want to know, yet not to try.
You caress a fading flame,
But soon the wax will slow
And you'll be left untamed.
Lost before you played the game.

Sometimes you'd wait for the hit.
Hold still, and then quick
You'd try to turn your back.
Smother it with words and wit.
But you've forgotten the trick,
And so you're stuck with it.

Sitting on the tracks. In the gloom,
You look towards the smog.
But you know the train will never come.
But the lights have been lit.
And you think you are done.
And in your hands, your punches never thrown
You keep your seeds. Life never grown.
And restlessly, the ticket you can never use.

Searching for those small things lost
You, the quiz-master, him, the quiz
You bet your wings, not knowing the cost:
Never knowing what right is.