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Push My Discontent
© January 2002, Roy Stucky

The grind has scraped a wound that will not go away.
The bitter thoughts are all my mouth can say.
I hate the deeds that I must do to earn my pay.
The flavor I once held has gone to grey.

I look for future sparks I never seem to see,
Deferring dreams of finally getting free.
I act like there's another soul I'm meant to be.
I push my discontent in front of me.

I push my discontent in front of me.

It rolled right back on me.

When all I wanted lay asleep in bed,
I rushed to make my self a cog upon a gear.
And then a voice I knew was in my head
Began to speak as if its breath caressed my ear.

"You've lost your past like wraiths denied a face.
The youth you were would thrill to merely drive this car.
Today that child would dance if given space.
Your joy awaits if you'll remember who you are.

Each moment holds a secret place to stand.
The view you choose will clench or open up your hand.
The blind don't see the depth through which you're whole -
Delight from levels woven deep into your soul."

I thought of all my fledgling dreams,
The hopes and fears that I forgot.
I finally saw just what it means
To only want what you are not.

 


"Now will you tell me why, even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a pleasant evening party, or a conversation in agreeable company - why it all seems no more than just a hint of some boundless happiness existing elsewhere rather than actual happiness, or any such happiness as may really be granted to us?"
Ivan Turgenev


Ivan Turgenev
Fathers and Sons


Sisyphus - Character from Roman mythology eternally condemned by Pluto to roll a great stone to the top of a hill, upon which the stone rolls back down and he must begin his toil again.