Robin Amy Bass

IN SEARCH OF GUIDANCE

Danger do not enter
High Voltage all about
Everything was working
Now the power’s out

Circuit breakers snapping
Darkness leads to doubt
Current overloading
And I cast about

I’m a city slicker
New York City bred
How I hate this blackout
It consumes my head

As I look for guidance
Try and find my Source
When I’m disconnected
And I’m blown off course

There is no allowing
No live and let live
Instead I’m found wanting
And I cannot give

Any form of comfort
It drives me insane
I’m told to be grateful
I want to complain

Stuck in my depression
It’s no way to live
There is no forgetting
I cannot forgive

I cannot remember
How to laugh or smile
Isle of self importance
With no sense of style

I still hear the voices
Put in their two cents
I forget my choices
There’s no evidence

That there is a Spirit
That there is a guide
Instead I hear the insults
And I toss aside

Any rhyme or reason
Any safety line
I reject the comfort
I would rather whine

Just a ball of pity
Over stuff so small
Stuff that should not matter
Not to me at all

Yes I should know better
How do I get caught?
Positive the thinker
Leading edge of thought

I hang with the right crowd
Still I cannot reach
I should be less selfish
Practice what I preach

Self esteem’s important
Where to draw the line?
How to strike a balance?
How do I combine?

All the contradictions
Try not to revert
Just ‘cause I’m not bleeding
I still feel the hurt

Some call it aggression
Tell me to assert
My soul is just weary
I must stay alert

Who to ask for guidance?
I have lost my Source
I am my worst critic
I stray from my course

End up looking needy
When I need to love
And to be drawn closer
To the ones I’ve shoved

To the secret corner
Down the basement floor
Just some understanding
Just a little more

Of another shoulder
Solid evidence
Now that I am older
There are those events

I can recognize them
They spell loneliness
Somehow I baptize them
I will not dispense

Any words of meaning
Cannot risk the hurt
Now I’m called a cynic
I no longer flirt

With a happy ending
That’s a pack of lies
Now I’m feeling older
But not very wise

Maybe in the morning
Source will reappear
Maybe in the sunlight
Maybe when you’re near

All that stirs inside me
Will find its proper place
I will lift the anchor
From this empty space