Sunday, October 4, 2015

"That old familiar feeling"

Time does tell a tale or two of bright and lucid dreams
Of whispers rising on the wind of shining, bright sunbeams
But, habits from a distant past arrive upon the scene
A ragged scalpel cuts across the vision in between
A feeling never spoken, just a sense from life before
Habits never broken, still conditioning decor
To break bad habit's wild embrace
All of life, one must retrace
Right back into the womb
Unspoken from the early years
Conditioned sense of silent tears
All life it will entomb
Destructive force, unwitting in its treason
Conditioning before one spoke with reason
The quirks that we all show upon the stage
Untrammeled by all thoughts of pain and rage
The answers lie in heaps among the past
Perception is the first attempt to cast
Transcending rote, the step that will surpass
And cancel frozen actions that amass
That old familiar feeling's often bane
It brings the haunt and, then, it brings the rain


© 2015 whickwithy


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