Mr. Tale


Let Me Tell You A Little Bit About The Bottom Of The Pit - Poem by Mr. Tale

Let me tell you a little bit about the bottom of the pit
You, yes, those who are all standing fine
Come here and take a sit
Take your first-aid kit
But just don't cross the line
Take a look around; make sure you see the warning sign

Now you're not sure where you are
It's dark; you're way too drunk,
But don't you worry; everything's going to be okay
Yeah, that's what they say
Even though it's been years since you remembered what day is today

And as the people come to hear an old man's story
A little girl goes out in a hurry
You worry
But don't tell her how you feel
Let the words cover up your 'seal'
They do it so well, so does the chill
And as the picture goes into still
Seems like you forgot the drill

So as stuff went by, she went away
And again, all these people are still waiting to see what I have to say
You watch their looks, expecting a sound.
Something just hit the ground
A clock that's been running around
But you don't care
Since it seems fair
So when they all look aside
You don't mind.
No, no, no, don't tell me I'm sober
The clock is still running, nothing's over

Open your eyes; you're in a room filled with mirrors
Forget this deceit, although it's a good way to pass the hours.
Everybody feels so good in disguise
Saving words for only more lies
You see, they can't hear the cries when you have no tears
Two minutes of kindness to make up for a century of fears
And is that crumbling feeling the lost of will for ears?
Because they all just seem to want to go on alone
Oh, what's that missing in my tone?

And when they finish watching how time runs out
They turn again with no doubt
Run along to pray to be heard by a misunderstood scout
As an angelic call coming gently from the unsuspicious crowd
You remember to look straight through to earn the right to shout
But is it really necessary in this usual kind of drought?

This is just another Tale,
Another 3 seconds in which you are free of jail
Since you think it's such a present to be out on bail…
I have no problem as you all seem to be running along,
Call it the another meaningless song
So that a broken sword may somehow appear strong
Make the words I say fulfill you in light
Another invisible dropp in our ocean tonight
And although what I say clearly pours clay on your soft-headed hay
I oblige you to come out and play
Because with no time's notice, you've sinned in crime
And while checking for places to hide
You wonder how every hole looks made heavenly to confide
Especially while the devil feels you up from behind

So where was I?
Making this storm dry
Or out in a silent cry
That doesn't matter in case you fly
But if you fall
Thinking beginning, middle and end are all same
I tell you – 'No hope going down curved as a ball'
And with no chance to escape
The voice of choice keeps screaming you're no different than an ape
Maybe a snake, without the possibility to get a semi-questionable skin-break

You'll never see
The spaces curved up in me
Just another drunken old man in the dark
A clock that shuts down the block
So I tell you this –
Keep running away for another day
As long as you keep wearing the same thought-out pray
Or maybe if you think it's just another colorless sock
I'll welcome you to this chair by me,
I'll welcome you to this ordinary state of shock
Since the chest got broken long-ago, and time's running in stock
Since something was stolen from your breast, right after you put it behind a lock
And after letting it open, the rope still binds it to the dock
You wonder…
Should I make it last…
Should I pass the test?
Should I…
Should I…
Just to get hit by a different rock

Now tell me what's this genuine-long-unprecedented fog of mystery?
Am I running out of battery?
Is it just me… in this treacherous living sea of misery?
Or are the boats nearby run free?

And this fog… this missing shine that's in a pearl
Please tell me what happened to that little girl?
She went through the door… probably sour… maybe poor…
Or maybe she wasn't there at all
So do you really think tomorrow will be different than before?
I told you to read the warning sign before you sit here by me… on the bottom of the floor.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 22, 2009



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