About the Poem
This poem was the result of two things. A guitar I was determined to learn to play (and never did). And a growing feeling in my life that there had to be more than the daily struggle to survive.
Had this ever been set to music, the tempo would have been upbeat and the tenor glad. But if you read the words carefully, you'll discover the optimism exists only on the surface. Beneath the lively rhymes and the snappy patter, a maelstrom of frustration lay that was the reflection of my life.
Perhaps the most telling point about this poem is the fact it never was set to music as intended.
Breaking Out |
| by Ron Carnell |
| Sunshine on my pillow, Tear stains on my sheet; Another lonely night, Another morning to greet. Get up ... Go to work ... Fight the bustling thong. Another day ... Another dollar ... It's gone on far too long! I'm breaking out! I'm breaking free! I'm gonna be whatever is me. I'm going to love to love, And hate to hate, And leave my destiny To a thing called fate. Watch the flowers grow. Watch the children touch. Feel my soul grow wider. And be so very much. I'm breaking out! I'm breaking free! I'll live my life gentle and easy. I'll live with style, And sing my songs Loud and clear To those bustling thongs. And one of these days, They'll break out, too, And see the truth: To be you is true. |
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2 Visitor Comments
Donna
breaking out. exactly
lucy
im sure we all have felt like this before if not now then someday soon. great poem
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