The Man With The Iron Suitcase
I am an iron suitcase with leather locks
Letting nothing in, everything is on it’s way out
I am a mirror reflecting so gracefully what’s coming in
But only out those who approach, all else would be a sin
I strive so hard to change this world, to offer rest
When instead my heart should strive to change not this world, but the next
“Can you hear me, carrier of the iron suitcase?” I call out!
“Can you see me through the wind, my insides want to come out!”
But no my yells come out as feint whispers
My cries go as far as a rain drop on the back of a bird’s feathers.
This life was meant to be shared like loaves and fishes to the thousands
Instead I’ve built myself into an idol, an idol, an idol,
When all my heart wanted, was to be tranquil.
