There is a heart shaped carve in rosewood.
There’s a line drawn in the sand.
I pray there on grace and wonder,
and there’s a baby, she’s in my hand.

There’s a virtue called forgiveness.
From a force we can’t see.
It’s how I deal with darkness.
Of how I feel when you’re with me.

I struggle now to hear you.
Seek approval in your eyes.
I hate you for your beauty.
Like I love you for your lies.

It’s a sad sad situation
Department sad but true.
You fear that they are coming
And you fear what they will do.

It’s a sad sad situation
Under heading sad but true
You fear that they are coming
No one is coming for you.

Dennis Mantin

(A song I wrote about leaving high school)

Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate
When they closed the chances store it sealed the users fate.

With no plans for the future and the future it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.

Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.

And I say, “Pray”

Get down on your knees sweet Charlotte , get down on your knees
I know you have a mission and I hope it is to please.
Take me to your leader because I think I’ve found the cure.
It’s a love that is botanical with determination pure.

Dennis Mantin

I don’t know why my baby loves clowns.
Whose painted on tears never fall down.
I don’t know what she sees in their eyes
Perhaps the line between horror/surprise…

I don’t know why my baby can’t sing.
Why carnival music isn’t her thing.
It fills my head when I’m at the fair.
Searching for clues in clowns everywhere.

I don’t know why she screams at night.
I hope it’s not why she holds me so tight.
Because I’m the type I’m weak for love.
Carnival music I rise above.

Is it the pain or is it the tears?
For some carnival crime from yesteryears.
Maybe it’s you, maybe I’ll never know.
Maybe it’s me, baby let go.

(chorus)

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings horses and all the kings men.
Tried and they tried but she fell down again.

Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
She went to her shrink ended up at the mall.
Humpty Dumpty wanted it all.

Dennis Mantin

I thought I’d miss her at first, however no… I didn’t really know her at all.

I was a distraction for her to get through a difficult time…

Nothing to be sad about really! I’ve been thought about as much less.

I loved her for her beauty but that is a weakness of mine.

I only miss the illusion of what wasn’t going to happen and even this won’t last.

Nothing does…

She’s had a few…

Her thoughts betrayed by nothing new.

Just water, ice, a frothy dew.

She laughs and sings, the way we do.

She smiles past her shade of blue.

As a man I thought I knew.

But then again I had a few.

Saturday past midnight.

Every star is in the skies.

I am waiting for the sun to come.

To go home and close my eyes.

They are filming in the shadows.

Stuntmen fight and lovers dance.

There is something in the sequel.

About a heroes second chance.

I’m not being callous or cavalier.

I’m not saying I don’t care.

I’m not saying that I’m not grateful.

I’m just got old and I’ve been there.

Do you remember or you forgot?

It’s on your mind, oh there’s a lot.

You be real or you a bot?

There’s a point to what you brought.

You be wise? But you not knows.

You tries to bury all those woes.

Said goodbyes and no moss grows.

You paint lies and that crack shows.

Do you recall or you forgot?

It’s on your mind, oh there’s a lot.

You still feel? What your gold bought?

There’s the point and there is not.

You stare far now with those eyes.

Tongue all swollen- double size.

You still hear? Yes those good byes.

You see smiling cause that truth rise.

You take your aim. You fire that shot.

You pick your pain and that’s a lot.

You lost it all and why you fought?

You be real or you be bot?

You be human or you be bought.

I remember those moments of Confusion. When someone would say after not seeing me for some time, years or more… saying: ‘You haven’t changed.You’re still the same.’

Later I read a quote where the author stated his shame when he figured out that the world was a costume party and he had worn his real face.

That’s when the “Penny Dropped. “

How rare are we? The Maskless.

Do the others know?

Them that are aware; do they feel shame like Kafka?

Or are they proud of it like me?

So many questions…