High Stress

It’s high stress all this loving.

Heart beating hard now triple timed.

I’ve been parked now on the off-ramp.

In those shadows less than kind.

She’s been worried about high flying.

I don’t fret about those fears.

Riding rough and sick of trying.

Now stop crying, faking tears.

I’ve been writing a new chorus.

I’ve been looking for fresh chords.

Rich man drives fast now in a taxi.

Passing poor men in their Fords.

We all are walking in cold shadows.

Under blue skies filled with rain.

I am quiet, no more promise.

I will let you live your pain.

There’s a lesson if you listen.

To a voice that lives inside.

Telling me that it’s not over.

Doesn’t care how hard you cried.

Dennis Mantin

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.