The Relatively Absolute


I hear the words and I think

How great to be viewed this way

To be considered such

To be seen in this light

Now I can rest assured

I am who I want to be

In her eyes

And it’s been signed on concrete


Five minutes down the line

Wait a minute

What was the mantra?

On which feature did she place her trust?

Did she really mean it?

Or are her words already treading in mud?


Ten minutes later

And the view has already become compromised

The going gets tougher

And what only a few moments ago

Seemed so beautifully pegged to a wall of fame

Has become flimsy and is dangling at a precarious angle

Did she really mean it?


Next day and the mirror reflects a throng of question marks

Could it be that I heard wrongly?

Maybe the interior process

Already underwent a permanent mutation

She couldn’t possibly still think this way

She didn’t really mean it

Alas, I don’t think she sees me the way

She viewed me yesterday



Look at it!


I am looking;

And what I am seeing

Puts what was into endless uncertainty

It’s not any longer absolute

It’s departed, it’s a past assertion

I am back on the chopping block

For all to take their pick

And pick at all of it


Too bad that what you saw in me

What you proclaimed only yesterday

Is an already departed compliment

  Without any say in the near future…