Underground Forever

Soft city shadows slide through my skin, Subways sigh secrets of where I’ve been, Concrete confessions, cold and concealed, Crowds carry questions they never reveal. Paper and pen were my private parade, Lines like a lifeline I carefully laid, Before the bright banners, before the acclaim, Before all the noise learned to whisper my name. Back when the burden was barely begun, Back when the battle was mostly unwon I wish I could write Underground forever, Where truth trembles tender, untouched by endeavor, Where words wander wild, not weighed by the crown, Where silence still sings when the systems break down. I wish I could write, just write it all down, Before all the suits and the slow circling frown, Before I believed I could balance the scales And learned how the better intention still fails. Men make a maze of their measured mistakes, Power persuades while the principled break, Polished positions, polite and profound, Hide hollow hearts in the halls all around. I saw the sorrow in suited disguise, Promises polished to pass for the wise, Every decision a delicate dance, Between what is right and what’s given a chance. Back when the pen was a purer device, Back when the cost wasn’t counted in price I wish I could write Underground forever, Where doubt drifts deeper, but hardens to never, Where rhythm remembers what reason denies, And ink isn’t inked by invisible ties. I wish I could write, just write it all down, Without all the weight of the watching town, Before I believed I could carry it through And learned how the many can bury the few. Flickering faith in fluorescent light, Late-night lines that learned how to fight, I traded the margins for measured control But lost little pieces of that younger soul. Still in the static, still under the skin, There’s a voice that refuses the volume within… I wish I could write Underground forever, Where hope hums low and it hardly says never, Where madness is mapped but never made law, And power still pauses in presence of awe. I wish I could write, just write it all down, Not for the world, not for the crown But for that boy who believed what he wrote… And buried his truth in a borrowed coat. Soft city shadows still settle somewhere, Subtle, subversive, still stubbornly there… I wish I could write I wish I still cared The way I did Underground.