And on my cheeks
The music clutching my soul and tapping my hands
That I pay to high a price for this frown I wear
It is I who strains to be unhappy
I who forces the muscles
When they don't have to work nearly as hard simply to let loose
And lose this grimace
For no reason at all.
Except that the world is hard.
And I am letting it harden me.
For I pay too high a price
When I let my joy be stolen by the million other sadnesses or callouses or seriousness or carefulnesses
Of this place.
It's not my home
And I won't pay the
Fly on the wheel fingers, fly up and flit to the beat.
Let them revel in the sun and feel the mouth float up too