Posts

Showing posts from January, 2012

13

The man in the hat is a husband.
He is also something else.
Who is also somewhere how?
By means of the midnight train.
But when is somehow what?
When the clock strikes thirteen.

Somehow

Somehow he never quite told the truth.
He lived in a different world, but no one could tell.
You see, he had a way with words.
It's a pity he hid behind them. Otherwise someone might have helped.
Or maybe hiding saved him. It's hard to say.
Words have no face, but they can describe one.
Words don't know people, but they can fool them.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to tell when you don't really know it.
And words, often repeated, seem true.

He took shelter in a different world, but no one could tell.
You see, he had a way with people.
It's a pity he never showed them his other world. They might have helped.
Or maybe keeping it safe protected him. It's hard to say.
People can't save, but they can lend a hand.
People can't understand, but they can listen.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to tell when it hurts people.
And people, often hurt, fade away.

You see, he had a way of thinking.
It's a pity he got stuck in…