These Dismays

These Dismays by Marc Block © 2010 Glasspool Music

Five days in France, that’s all it is
But it’s this year’s only holiday
Last-minute he decides not to go
So it’s once again without him I’m away

He’s let me down so many times
And this is likely to be just once more
How will I know which of these dismays
Will be the very final straw?

I see from the train a dying oak hold sway
In the field a child waves from the corner by the track
She runs golden-haired and carefree down the hill
I have no time to wave back

Butterfly bushes grow in every roof and wall
They’ll pull them all down someday
I’m trying to follow my instincts
But they don’t all lead the same way

Heavy crowds in the city on the hill
I look down from high upon the wall
I’m sharply startled from the edge
Can’t help but think about the fall

It’s too hot, I’m hungry and this old car is noisy
Through a world-weary haze I recognise
We’re on a road we took when we were young
But now too many breaths are heavy sighs

He’s let me down too many times
And I won’t let this be just once more
If he’s down in the bottle again
That’s the very final straw

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