Oh, But I Had to Stop Singing
Of course, things are different
as I knew they would be
but, you know, “that’s life” as they all say.
I’d like to say that everything is okay
and not a big deal but I’d hate to lie.
Well, maybe not to myself but that just doesn’t work
all the time.
Yeah, buck up, Buckaroo.
Time will take care of it all for don’t you remember
that old cliché, that old lie?
Time heals all wounds as mothers are apt to say.
Wasn’t true then; isn’t true now.
But time does have an effect
if you’re smart enough to use it for you can bury yourself
in the trivia of life; of the mundane.
You know how that works, don’t you?
If you’re hungry, then eat. Taste doesn’t matter
just chew, chew, and swallow. Eating is something
you can always do. It’s almost mechanical.
Tired? Lay down and sleep. Fight that demon that keeps you
awake sometimes, but it will work sooner or later
for eventually you finally have to just give in to weariness.
You just give in and finally, it will happen.
How about friends – being around your friends?
Doesn’t that have a bit of a challenge? Yep.
You can fake those smiles and tell that lie
“I’m better off” and all your friends will smile
and nod that you are right.
Their nodding is a lie and you both know that.
Yeah, yeah. Another cliché. Fake it ‘til you make it.
The important thing is that you can do that. You
can play that game.
And work. Well, work is much the same.
Keep your head down and work, work, work.
More fake it ‘til you make it. Somehow, you can get
through that.
Even going out with the guys is okay. Well, okay
in the sense that you can do it. Have a few beers.
Toss a shot or two back. . . and pretend.
Pretend it is all okay.
Good riddance to that . . . that word you won’t say.
Ah, but don’t think about any of that. Just fake it
and keep on rolling.
So far, I have been just fine. I make it all work somehow,
ignore the pain, the emptiness, the memories.
I can do this. I can do this like I am an actor in a play.
It’ll work. I can make it work. I can fake almost anything.
But I had to stop singing. . .
Michael Mathews
February 7, 2018
5:10 PM Wednesday
In my RV by the lake
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