There's the Table!

There’s the table!

The dining table!

Oh how I wish I could see above it!

But I’m sat at the children’s table,

For my height restricts that which I yearn.

There’s the table!

The dining table!

I’ve almost achieved its height!

Yet I still reach below it,

Stuck with my silly lullabies.

There’s the table!

The dining table!

There sit the adults again!

Oh how I wish I were among them,

So I could speak with the wisdom they have.

There’s the table!

The dining table!

Lord, for what I pray tonight,

Is that soon I can reach the skies,

That lie above that dining table.

There’s the table!

The dining table!

Of its maturity, I’m still bereft,

Oh how I wish I could see the joyful expressions,

That it hides behind itself.

There’s the table…

The dining table…

Not at all what I wished.

Little did I know that it was only a way

To mask the facades that hide behind.

There’s the table…

The dining table…

Of which above, are not skies.

But rather elders too afraid to speak the truth,

So in its stead, they spread stormy lies.

Oh, there’s that table…

That dining table,

Upon which humans play emotional poker,

The first to show their cards,

Are the first to bleed their hearts.

Oh, there’s that table,

That damned dining table,

The one that has only dark skies,

It has not pearls, but dirty coal,

Presenting the worn out hearts of each mortal sat at its side.

There’s that table...that poor dining table...

And oh I wish, how I wish, that I never wished for it before…