Us and Them (first poem I ever wrote, 33 years ago)
Posted: August 19th, 2006, 9:30 am
Time after time, always, trying to rhyme
my life with theirs, who seem without cares;
who don't dare to question what life's really about,
never stopping to ask or express any doubt.
In amidst the crowd, so false and so loud,
but don't speak of truth, "Come down off your cloud!"
A stick in the mud, their image of you
'cuz you can't act as well as they do.
If you just sit quietly, they'll ask, "What's wrong?"
For to remain so silent one must surely be 'gone'.
To be different you must be mad,
to be the same makes them so glad,
as they then feel 'normal',
the world's number one fad.
Three billion to one, sometimes we may feel,
tired, scared, alone - can this home be real?
Where ne'er a joy can exist without pain
for soon as it's born by law it is slain.
No, here is not home, of this I am sure,
for here is little, joyful and pure.
And the time has come when I must cease trying
to rhyme my life to this world's lying;
but to go beyond, I must,
armed with faith, love and trust.
To my true home I will find my way
'til ev'ry sorrow is washed away.
early lenny
my life with theirs, who seem without cares;
who don't dare to question what life's really about,
never stopping to ask or express any doubt.
In amidst the crowd, so false and so loud,
but don't speak of truth, "Come down off your cloud!"
A stick in the mud, their image of you
'cuz you can't act as well as they do.
If you just sit quietly, they'll ask, "What's wrong?"
For to remain so silent one must surely be 'gone'.
To be different you must be mad,
to be the same makes them so glad,
as they then feel 'normal',
the world's number one fad.
Three billion to one, sometimes we may feel,
tired, scared, alone - can this home be real?
Where ne'er a joy can exist without pain
for soon as it's born by law it is slain.
No, here is not home, of this I am sure,
for here is little, joyful and pure.
And the time has come when I must cease trying
to rhyme my life to this world's lying;
but to go beyond, I must,
armed with faith, love and trust.
To my true home I will find my way
'til ev'ry sorrow is washed away.
early lenny