On Account of What?
by: RJ
There is this fear I have deep inside me —
Not a usual fear, not mere apprehension or worry.
Not an imagined trouble or conjured-up story
Nay a drawn-up conclusion or fired-up creativity.
I know you ask yourself, “But on account of what?”
So I open my mouth to answer, but the words just won’t come out.
I fear for tomorrow and I fear for yesterday.
I fear procrastination, indecision, absense of foreplay.
I tremble at the thought of a lost love through hearsay —
Or the reality of a perceived notion, refuted in display.
I know you ask yourself, “But on account of what?”
So I open my mouth to answer, but the words just won’t come out.
There is this fear that the time I have with you is short.
In the same way I fear that a candidate is out to steal my vote.
There is this fear that the elements of the universe will rock this boat
And send me to undiscovered territory full of conflict and despicable gloat.
I know you ask yourself, “But on account of what?”
So I open my mouth to answer, but the words just won’t come out.
I fear someday soon you realize I’m really not that pretty
Oh, come on, don’t fool me, we both know you’re a sucker for a lovely lady
I fear one day soon it will dawn on you that you’re not the type who’ll marry
Ha! That will be the greatest joke to humanity, and the funniest of the century
I know you ask yourself, “But on account of what?”
So I open my mouth to answer, but the words just won’t come out.
Most days, I catch myself lost in the reverie of my lost youth
Or the sound of your voice, or your personality so astute
I glance at this screen, grab a paper, scribble, and write-up a note
But then I just couldn’t stop, here is where the words are, all the words I forgot
I know you ask yourself, “But on account of what?”
So I open my mouth to answer, but the words, my darling, believe me —
The words just won’t come out.
– end –
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