Posted by: mrdmcday | March 30, 2010

Mr. Sycamore

I pushed to the left
The storm was coming from the right
But the more I pushed and pleaded
The more he thought I wasn’t right
I saw other trees
Just as big as he
Ripped from their home
For they lack a solid foundation
A mass of untilled soiled
A comfort zone free of toil
A slue of beautiful creatures
Just too depressed and unsure of themselves
Lost to the cold winds
And I’m not about to lose another person again
So I held him tight
Tried to take him up by the roots
But his callus and cold nature had seeped to his very roots
Now he’s deeply rooted
In something that’s most likely to consume
An cocky fellow that happens to place himself there
He’ll see himself flawless when he looks in the mirror
And he’ll fail to see that this solid frame is all bones
That his heart died in this hollow abode it used to call home

I’m sick of having more responsibilities than the next guy
Sick of being pressured to be better
Sick of doing wrong and being lectured
Can’t everyone just move on and leave me alone?
Sick of looking in the mirror and seeing your face instead of my own
When I walk in the room
I want everybody to see ME without the talk of our resemblance
As if they are unable to bring you to remembrance

As he spits his harsh words in my face
And proceeds to about face
Seems there’s nothing I can do
To cure the overwhelming irrationality
Free him of this fallacy

The juxtaposition of our lives
Begs me to think twice
I want to save him from the other side of the tracks
But I have to face facts
He won’t budge
No matter how hard I push and press
I just end up pressing the wrong buttons when it comes down to it

And so I take off
Running in the other direction
My tears smear across my face and disappear
The wind shears
Turning them into a cutting reflection of my years here
Previous streams of gladness
Now dried riverbeds
A barren trek of sadness proceeds across my cheeks
My sight is blurred, bleak
But I continue to move on
Realizing what’s is forever gone

Never looking back or I might be pressed to return to the treacherous place
From which I just came
I can already hear that wicked wind seeking me
Ominously calling my name
Be I’m veteran to this game
Been here to many times before
And Im not falling for those same hollowed tricks again

When I reach safety
I turn to see if he’s all right
The sunny day has turned to an inglorious night
Dark and dreary from plague
Now my soul’s full of fright as his being becomes vague

I wonder what could make a person want to be such a stubborn fool
And then I looked down
Noticed that I was a tree too
Except I was rooted in a different soil
One that my friend Mr. Sycamore hadn’t come to know
Guess that’s why someone so close seemed so eager to turn foe
And the separation only worsens as our respective plants grow

But I realized that I haven’t been rooted here all my years
There was a transformation in life
Something that made me shift gears
An undeserved grace
That uplifted me from that wretched place of depression and fear
A place all to familiar to the one I now leer

Heck…

Those look like the same storm clouds too
A tad bit different but they share the same hue
They fly on the same dark ambitions, singing the same tune
I see the misshapen leader
With his hunger to consume any lost mind
Glaring at me in contempt
Because he lost mine

But Captain Tempest steadily blows his mighty wind
And I’m fearful that I may lose my once close friend
But if I made it out
Then I’m sure there’s a chance for him too
That same grace be shed upon him too
And then he can shed this hardened exterior
Molt the malice
Look inside and bring forth the interior
I know there’s something there
But it isn’t my place to wring it out
Gonna take something stronger to bring that about
So as I stand on this hill
Out of harms way
And I watch Mr. Sycamore face the battles of my yesterday
It’s hard but I’m sort of anxious for tomorrow
Who knows?
It may be the day He ends all my sorrows

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