Some say, that every colour has a special meaning,
One that flowers wearing them know not revealing,
Some say, colour is an accident in evolution’s learning,
One that the eyes perceiving them realise not peering.
Some say, that every road comes to an inevitable end,
One that the destination would need to reliably depend,
Some say, the end is merely a road in search of a bend,
One that the traveller’s plans have to decide and mend.
Some say, that every song is an undeclared dedication,
One that the writer could not afford the adulation,
Some say, that a song is another path to education,
One that the audience repeats as a means to erudition.
Some say, that every feeling springs from a reason,
One that varies as much as the flora every season,
Some say, emotion is beyond the reproach of reason,
One that the questioned treats as good as treason.
Some say, the sun’s primary gift to us is light,
One that justifies the existence of our sight,
Some say, the true reason is to contrast the night,
One that the believer thinks too dark to be right.
For as long as man has co-existed in the fray,
There have always been things for some to say,
What they think, and say, matter to you it may,
What matters more to you though, is what you say.
This one is for the Gazebo, being as it is a reflection on the nature of our thoughts and the interpretation of their expression. The format and meter have been inspired by Amanda McBroom and Bette Middler’s song The Rose. I had stumbled across this song through Christopher Maloney’s audition and was struck by the lyrical flow. It explores how much of our expression derives from what we think, and how much from what we think that others think of what we think.
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