talkin’ springsteenesque introspection blues …
i have lost myself,
so often,
tripping over the tangled barbs,
here and there and everywhere i have been,
splintering me more,
each time we hauled ass,
and where once i tried to sew myself whole,
now i know,
sure,
all the random trivia,
a bit of this
but not much of much at all,
that’s the truth,
and i’ll stick to it,
go ahead,
haul me up against the wall,
but now, you see,
that now i see a little more,
cutting deep to the core,
i’ve been putting on a show,
playing the part,
cowardly,
callow,
hollow,
empty,
blind-mans bowl,
and chillingly,
effortlessly,
almost now,
clanging on,
the same old song,
the tired old dance,
but then again having strutted once,
puffy,
conceited ego,
once,
and since i have been humbled,
many times since,
this old shell has had some touch-up, and some paint,
but still,
typecast,
twisted,
playing the sad old role,
vagabond castaway,
misfit whatever,
neither here nor there,
and not that i don’t,
(pretend, at leas) to care,
i am tired of the perennial fare,
this endless fair,
playing the skin i shed yesterday,
slipping into my new skin today,
vaulting myself high,
perched up,
on the mantle,
tucked away,
between suburban pomposity,
and expected holier-than-thouness,
but now after all these years,
and after all these miles and after all these tears,
i think i am able to get through the times,
when my burden of sins,
keeps kicking me in the shins,
because one thing i know is what you said,
what you said, man, was true,
i remember it was during one of your pre-song talk-in/intro/philosophical detours on that never-ending highway,
i remember it time and time,
i’ll remember it always,
again and again,
each time i’m kicked in the shins,
remember, you said,
“… remember, in the end, no one wins unless everyone wins.”
_______________
for Bruce Springsteen
Scribbled Verse 