Busy

Good is all I feel
I don’t think I’ll die
Do what I desire
As the days go by

Say whatever words
See whatever sights
Hear whatever tales
Tasting all delights

How I love to dance
To the tune of joy
Mirth is my religion
Passion is my toy

Seconds roll to minute
Minutes roll to hour
Hours to the day
Until I climb the tower

Lonely up above
Here upon my bed
Satin feels like bramble
Tearing through my head

Every blink’s a year
Every breath’s a storm
Every burning tear
Fails to keep me warm

Busy, busy, busy
That’s all I was to me
Busy, busy, busy
Is all I’ll ever be

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *