The Fine Print Always Ruins That Glint of Hope- Part 3
On the rainy days I wind gently through the streets
Trying desperately to greet every new person I should meet
My demeanor screams of defeat
Just not the best person in this world to meet
But if you have the time my voice shall chime in your ears
I’ll bring hope to your greatest fears
You will talk and I shall chalk my theories in to your mind
At the end of the day I stray to my favorite dinner
Where the conversation gets finer
The waitress cracks a smile for every one liner I throw her
I pay my check in order to get on my way
The waitress always tells me I hope you find a better day
And I answer baby don’t you worry if I get through another winter
Spring will come carried on the back of May
Then things might start going my way
On long nights I fill up a lonely ash tray
I tap my foot that’s all it ever took and I’m on my way
Documenting the event of each and every day
Paying close attention to mention each and every piece
Like greased-lightening my pondering’s are biting down to leave a scar
Not so straight like bars
More like lines on a map we use to find our way in cars
Sorry folks I wish I could choke up a hoax
But reality always pokes its ugly head out
In all fairness what better thing to write about
A sprinkle of doubt
A small amount of longing carefully measured out
Finally a dash of hope
My personal recipe to cope with this thing we call life
Let us speak in generalities they come with much lower fees
If you should look you shall find the devil seems inclined to hide in the details
And the fine print never fails to ruin our beloved fairytales
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