Monday, July 20, 2015

Mr. Jones

|Tonight I was sure I heard the neighbour complain about my singing. Spray my window with their garden house. I think of my friend who always comments on how happy I get when I talk about music, my whole world lights up and jumps through my eyes.
Don't turn away from me, don't say words that are going to only hurt you in the end. Because me, I'm learning to fly. Don't you want to see the transformation from caterpillar to butterfly, the magic of ugly to beautiful?
Don't misunderstand this noise, it's my heart waking up, has your heart never awakened before, sometimes it needs to scream in order to hit the high notes and then and then, it is beautiful. Loud but beautiful.
Don't you want to hear my voice soar, see my heart magic. That's what I want for you, without the drugs, without the hate.
I guess you know we'll have to become the dream, that's the only way to face the fear.
Leave the neighbourhood behind, let them worry about the height of the grass, and the price of the land. I'll shovel and rake for you, but let me sing, for goodness sakes let me sing.
I listen to my heart, and I rise, like magic I rise, high into the sky.
Tonight I hear you whisper, as I walked by that I'm not really a writer, cause I don't get paid. And not everyone likes my pen, not everyone likes when I write.
Don't you realize, that mess of words, lifts me up from depression and so I keep writing.
Don't think I do it to impress you, to earn your money. Your kind words make my heart sing, but that's not why I write.

I write to keep up with me, you see, my heart is my own; Mr Jones

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