When every song on the record
is known all too well
When every note is just the one before the next
and every line just something to remember
When every high and low are etched into our minds
and their transitions too easy to predict
When every chord is heard first inside our skulls
and every bar just senseless repetition
That's when we reach for something new

When every word in the book
has been read a dozen times before
when every sentence is but a string of words
and every word a string of letters
When the pages are too torn to turn
and the images dulled by familiarity
And when the plot twists cease to amaze
and even feel like old friends
That's when we close the book

When every day is like the past
and every morning is riddled with deja vu
When everything is on automatic
and at night we can't remember a thing
When every cup of coffee feels the same
and every conversation played a dozen times before
And when every good knight kiss fails to comfort
and every "I love you" just another ritual
That when there's Hell to pay

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.