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I forgot to say goodbye

by Scott Kurtz

Does it matter that I think too much,
If I enjoy to dwell on things that matter?
Sitting in a smoke-filled coffee-shop,
Sitting on a park-bench,
Sitting on a curb;
Thinking in concentric circles and neverending lines,
Thinking in spirals and squares.
People say are you sad? Your expression is so stern.
And maybe I'm not telling them everything,
But their tears tell me hidden life-stories
And I turn them into ink
For writing love-letters.

Does it matter that I drive a lot?
Wander in the night to not-a-place particular,
So I can feel the pain without the walls?
And I have seen it all:
Rain in time with windshield wipers,
Listening to symphonies that try to make me cry,
Thinking of things I'd be with time to kill and lots of money,
Writing poetry with four bald tires.
Drops that never drip the same way twice,
And pools that ripple ever-so-concise,
Reflecting my need to be with you.


Does it matter that I sing out loud?
Middle of a fallow-field, trying to make my story heard?
Trying to give you something back; my apathy for empathy.
Passion stirred inside my soul, harmony I've always known.
Melody that leaves me stunned, I fight to take control.
On my face and in the dirt,
Asking you to heal me once-for-all.
I know sometimes it hurts, 'cause I have seen it all,
And I don't know a thing.

Does it matter that I write to you
In words that sometimes I don't understand?
That my hand never wrote, but yours alone?
A little note, from you to you, through me.
I'm happy not to get it,
But I regret, when leaving I forgot to say goodbye.
And later on I die for one last word
Which would complete the work begun.
And I have seen it all . . . I think I've seen it all,
Or many things, 'cause I'm so strong.
And you? Well . . . you're just . . . there.