August 14, 2010

• Moving Day

  I penned a little (unfinished) song while I was in the last stages of moving out of my home of almost 19 years. It’s been great.

  All of this came out of me sitting in an naked room with no furniture left except for an empty desk and a bookshelf.

  This song doesn’t have a chorus or bridge, and does not have any feeling of closure to it. So far, I have not been able to bring myself to finish and polish it off. Maybe someday I will be able to come back to it and feel comfortable enough to do so. Or maybe some things are best left unfinished.

  I suppose I can make a recording of myself singing this some time.

   

  Moving Day

  G, B7, C, B7 C D G D

  In an empty room
  with earth toned walls
  A shelf full of books
  With no bed to sleep on
  There’s no warmth here at all

  In the guest bathroom
  almost nothing remains
  the sink has been cleaned
  the cabinets restained
  All of our things gone
  it looks so plain

  Oh, I’m so old
  this is my home

  I’m stuck in the drab
  room with no curtains
  Leaving here soon
  For where I’m not certain
  At least I know where I’ve been

  Coffee mug on my desk
  Empty in rest
  Looking around me
  admiring the mess
  Living here now seems like the best

  Oh, I’m so old
  this is my home

  The blinds are still white
  but not very bright
  Coloring my sky
  sun sets into night
  I’m losing time and I can’t fight.

  Placed right behind me
  the window I see
  where I snuck out
  nightly to breathe
  Through it now, I want to leave.

  This was personal. Very personal.

   

  -b.

  • 5:19 pm
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