Let Go - His
Your smile’s always kind, polite;
Your conversation ceaselessly bright;
When we go out, you’re dressed to the nines;
And your humour is a definite gold mine,
But never once have I seen you let go:
I haven’t yet heard you chuckle or yawn,
Nor have your eyebrows come together in frown;
Your aura always seems a controlled brown,
And the golden halo is your perfect crown;
But I want to watch how you let go:
To dare and be more than society’s norm,
To be a bit crazy and let your hair down;
I’ll stand by you as you let it all go
Because, I only want to know the real you,
Not the shadow propriety can subdue.
Like always, each person gets his and her say for the sake of balance.
Today, Yesterday, Tomorrow - Hers
It felt good to see you again,
You in your T- shirt, its colour a bit waned,
Your humour light, as humble as rain,
Yet there were many things changed:
The way you looked so long at me,
As I searched for the rebel within;
The appreciative slight nod at me,
As you watched me frown, laugh and grin;
We were just not the same, were we?
I have changed you see,
Irrepressible daredevil no longer,
I am not who I used to be,
I am now a very different me.
Gone is the glaring individuality
I’ve become less of an eccentricity.
Experiences gained and friends lost,
Have made me that much more calmer,
Dreams let go off, achievements reached,
Have made me judgemental and stronger,
I’ve been moulded by the passing of time
And assimilated the rest traits you see.
And if you don’t much fancy the new me,
Then do us a favour, leave and let me be
Don’t expect me to turn back the clock for you
I cannot go back to who I once used to be
Or you could just hang around and learn:
To accept me as I am today
To remember what I was yesterday
And dare to stand by me as I grow tomorrow.
So what do you say?
The guy just wanted back the girl he had known and wondered why she would conform to an ideal she had not upheld previously. The girl, apparently not having an answer to that question, is just asking him to go with the flow and see what comes of it for she cannot undo the changes that she has made (has been made?) to herself.
Isn’t conforming part and parcel of everyday life? If not we’d find people walking around with leaves as clothes, using blood to write, sleeping in the bathroom and peeing in the kitchen and only heaven knows what else.
We do it for society, our family and friends, work, strangers, world peace (??) and ourselves. We do it knowingly and unknowingly. I feel Sigmund Freud-ish here.
I mean, all of us are rebels in our own ways, and allowing oneself to fit into society isn’t all that wrong, now, is it?