Dust

Here on the panhandle
I’m fit to be fried
Thinkin’ it over
Knowin’ everybody lied
About him
And here I am

A promise and a dollar
Will buy you a drink
Of coffee in a cup
While you sit here and think
As the dust
Fills your lungs

Don’t listen to your friends
Don’t listen to your heart
Don’t listen to anyone
Don’t draw any charts
Cuz it don’t matter at all
It won’t work out after all
And here you are
With nothin’ as far as the eye can see
But the wind blows on endlessly
Least you got your thoughts
Bitter as they are
Buck up and face the fire
With muddy tears

A lone desert flower
In the Cimarron heat
A rose in the desert
Together we’d beat
The odds
And curse the gods

But the days never ended
Just oily red dirt
A film of frustration
Coated in hurt
Lorn remains
Of dreams and days

The clock’s runnin’ faster
Time’s runnin’ out
Feel myself greyin’
Alone with my doubts

I watch him drivin’ down
The dirt road out of town
And here I am

A man with frustration
Pain and regret
Like the columns in shadow
I watch the sun set

Stuff my hopes in a keepsake box
And snap the heart-shaped lock
And curse the dust


© 2005 Michelle Anderson