Saturday, February 2, 2013

Teenage Blues/A Room Full of Candles


Put me in a freak show

Let that be an end to it!

Alongside the bearded lady

I think I'd be a hit.

I don't think I'll go out tonight

I'll stay at home and mope.

I am damned by this pimple.

I haven't any hope.

Everyone else is pretty,

From the head down to the toes.

Life just isn't worth living

When there's a pimple on your nose. 


My study is a room full of candles,

Candles that keep on burning.

(In truth it's a little spare bedroom

To which I keep returning.)

I climb up the stairs to my study

Where the candles are always waiting,

Standing stiffly to attention,

Eagerly anticipating.

Some are burned down to the wick,

Ideas that are long out-dated.

Some remain unlit

And, oh, how long they've waited!

Some are burning brightly

They are nourishing my soul;

I watch for the tiny flicker

As a flame relinquishes its role.

Some are ancient candles;

I scarcely recognise the flame;

Others are candles that will never be lit;

My indolence is to blame.

I have warmed my heart at these candles,

Which are lit by the urge to write;

Their flames have sputtered and flickered

Well into the night.

To others it's our spare bedroom,

A dull little room for sure,

But for me it's a room full of candles,

And I couldn't love it more.

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