the wallflowers

we're just the wallflowers, the pretty ones that grow along the fence, the wild few embodying youthful confusion, not just representing it. all these complicated nights lit by the back porch lights must mean something. still, most kids dance anyway; too much time worrying about too many feelings or the too little time it takes to hurt them? we'd rather dance around our own heads to our own songs, the distorted wind sceaming. it keeps on blowing us around. can't see straight, touching hands; swaying. just let us be, come harvest, we'll be dancing.

or

we're just the wallflowers,
the pretty ones
that grow along the fence,
the wild few embodying youthful confusion,
not just
representing it.

all these complicated nights
lit by the back porch lights
must mean
something.
still, most kids dance anyway;
too much time worrying about too many feelings
or the too little time it takes to hurt them?

we'd rather dance around
our own heads
to our own songs,
the distorted wind screaming.
it keeps on blowing us around.
can't see straight,
touching hands;
swaying.

just let us be,
come harvest, we'll be dancing;
free.