The world is dimensional and nothing sees through it;
The walls too opaque, and then time runs away,
Off over the edges and pools there at midnight,
The hour always late or else way much too late.
We sang the refrains and we pondered our fate,
Under the apple tree, under the steeple;
We did everything that they told us we'd do-
And we find now we're just ordinary people.
Nothing special, we're just like the rest,
Dress us in leather or mohair or satin;
We'll sing and we'll dance to the numbers you say,
Looking for all the world as if filled with passion.
But in our dark rooms, we sag down in the gloom,
Time is our enemy, dreams busy dying-
Once on a platter, the world to us given;
Now the hour's midnight, soon they'll leave us crying.
A life cycle on this planet is not easy to go through and the pains certainly are severe at the very least most of the time. Oddly I take comfort in a verse part which I Quote: 'There is nothing new under the sun' for it is done over and over again I would gather. And your wonderful poem generously brings into present time how there is no difference, we are all ordinary people. And I beleive that in itself speaks volumes about how special we all are...You are very special to bring it to our attention..............Jim Troy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
we're just like the rest, Dress us in leather or mohair or satin; Thought provoking and inspirational.Well articulated.