24 December 2012
I want to stand tall
But I feel hindered
My wooden stilts
Have cracked and splintered
Words fly out like broken glass
Reckless
Chaotic
Streams of black mascara
Run down my face
Take me back to the place
Where people roamed barefoot by the sea
Their stilts became driftwood
And their minds became free
They left their footprints in the sand
They left their footprints on the shore
But they are long gone
Those ones who came before
For they gathered up that driftwood
Built a giant ship
And sailed to the island
Where a thousand lonely people wait
To feel like they matter
And are rid of the hate
Lonely Island • Opuss № I