• Brian M Winningham

High Hopes

I feel it building

Inside me

Boiling over

The pressure

About to burst

“What do you know?!”

About my pain

It’s personal! Mine!

Your words mean nothing

Your caresses hurt.

I’m a wooden statue

With a heart of

Crushing, oppressive stone.

“How can you know?”

What it is to carry

Such a weight, such a pain.

Such deep, dreary sorrow

Like a worn wool cloak that only

Holds the cold inside.

Sometimes I sit and

Scream inside my head

“Stop this fucking ride!”

I want off… And the shot rings out

Like a marble striking glass

Once there was a funny young man

Thought he’d blow a hole in his head.

Well everyone knows that man can’t…

That man can’t…

But he's got high hopes

He's got high hopes

He's got high apple pie

In the sky hopes...

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