Scarecrow

Take a beanpole that has felt the seasons change

Has known the wind against its face

And place it firmly in the softest ground

Throw around the pole a cloak of patterns curious

That catch the sun and turn the eye away from what is true

Paint upon its face a smile that never questions why

And crown it with a high hat made of straw

And when the evening creeps into your eyes

You'll leave it for the world to see

This sad reflection named Vanity

Hear the voices talking though their lips are barely moving

Yet their words are cutting, quick to find the softest ground

Twisting in their broken flights to catch the dreams you cast aside

To bring them once again before your eyes

Raise the scarecrow to their lips that stiffen and then turn away

To leave you thankful, breathless, if alone

And though you are too real to disappear

You sink again into your bones

And leave the scarecrow to the world

Take a beanpole that has felt the seasons change

Has known the wind against its face

And place it firmly in the softest ground

Throw around the pole a cloak of patterns curious

That catch the sun and turn the eye away from what is true

In its hands you place your bitter tears

Its legs will be your broken dreams

Swaying from the gibbet of contempt

And when you seek for gentle words

You'll find its shadow reappears

To shield you from the tenderness of love