There’s that voice inside me again.
Why does is always know where to begin?
It preys on my deepest regrets and desires
It has no tack, and doesn’t get tired.
Write, call, change, and wake up it commands.
But I’ve got this built in muffler on hand.
It keeps me sheltered from what’s right
Leaving me no guilt to party through the night.
No wonder I wary of the quiet places,
All of the sudden the voice starts having a face.
Real enough to make an ache in my heart start
Facing reality is what they say, “the hardest part.”
I will find my way to mute that voice again.
But today I can hear it loud, and I understand.
Act this way and that way, make your mother proud.
Be nice to people, and blend into the crowd.
by Dave Schipper © 2007 Rose Riversongs