THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...)
BACK TO COLORS
where is the inspiration
I used to feel so much
whatever was inside of me
I seem to have lost touch
with the passion for the writing
and the love of the rhyme
and the feeling of the telling
of the feeling of being alive...
I used to feel it all the time
something is missing
I don't know what
there are many things
I haven't got
but just what is missing
that quiets my heart
that is a mystery
I used to love mysteries
but this one seems to be
slowly tearing me apart
maybe it's the music
I no longer hear
maybe it's the reading
I no longer do
maybe it's the visions
that no longer appear
maybe it's the love
I used to share
with you
something is missing
I don't know why
I feel I'm crawling
where I used to fly
but just what is missing
that I left behind
that is a mystery
I used to love mysteries
but this one seems to be
leaving me deaf dumb and blind
where's the familiar feeling
I used to get when I'd
express myself this way in rhyme
don't want to think it died
where's the passion for the writing
and the love of the rhyme
and the feeling of the telling
of the feeling of being alive...
I used to feel it all the time
something is missing
I don't know where
I must have lost it
why don't I care?
whatever is missing
is reducing me
to a shadow of myself
I used to love myself
but now I seem to be
indifferent
ambivalent
and not content
just being me
maybe it's the music
I no longer hear
maybe it's the reading
I no longer do
maybe it's the visions
that no longer appear
maybe it's the love
I used to share
with you
something is missing
I don't know what
there are many things
I haven't got
but just what is missing
that quiets my mind
that is a mystery
I used to love mysteries
but this one seems to be
beyond my ability to find
Missing
Ric Candor ©1999
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