Listening to
Clair de Lune by the APM Orchestra
And all the little efforts
Lay spoiled
Like the broken faces of porcelain dolls
With beauty marred, and no hope of repair
The crack remains though sealed to perfection.
The one key that remains out of tune in the midst of a symphony
Barely audible in the cacophony of wonder
Except to the ear that knows its presence
And all the little efforts
To fix the broken pieces into a hard shell
But light will shine through the cracks of a facade
That carefully conceals a life that wants no memory of itself.
It is madness
It is hopelessness
But it is the truth.
The broken keys
Smashed doll faces
The facades of strength -
All our little efforts to pathetically cover
Never fully conceals what is meant to be hidden
They are penetrable, fallible, exhaustible
For we are but human pretending to be gods
Masquerading in a strength that we do not possess.
All our little efforts
To be who we are not
Requires more than just
Our little efforts.
