CALLOUS

More poetry. This one's a thought about the sadness and the loneliness of being hard-hearted. I'm one of those people who don't try to hold on to things like this, so it might be worth saying, this is not really me - you'll have to imagine it's someone else, like I did when I wrote it. Definitely don't read too much into it.

I do think though there's at least some relevance for all of us at the moment. Our human nature sometimes threatens to take us here, perhaps from an initially good and noble cause, perhaps from firmly held ideas or beliefs. Listen. Don't go. Whatever it is, let those things go before you get here. This is called Callous...

Callous

Tough skin hardens

Round the corners of my heart

On the frozen throne of justice

Where the coldest feelings start

And the hall of things unspoken

Ices over from within:

Tough stuff hardens

On the inside of my skin

Eyes grow narrow

In this castle made of stone

Where a king I never wanted

Made a callous heart a home

And the bitter wind of silence

Blew from unrepentant skies

Tough skin hardened

In the corners of my eyes

Fist clenched tighter

In the winter of defence

With a prejudice and pride

That bears no rationale or sense

In this opulent resentment

In these unforgiving bones

Tough skin hardens

Like a wall of solid stone

Tough skin hardens

From the pain I can't release

As it twists into each finger

Print, and leaves me free of peace

It's a palace made of calluses

Where light and freedom part

Tough skin hardens

Round the corners of my heart