A March Without a Beat

Walking towards the music to the sounds of my despair.
If only I could better listen to the true rhythm that is there.
I dance solemnly without a partner to a march without a beat.
This chaotic twisting pattern has proved to be too much for my feet.
The pain that once was centered has traveled up and down my spine.
It has made me clumsy in my steps and foolish in my mind.
As I stumble out of these inconsistencies I hope to fall into my place.
But I only land inside a different song with a faster,
more painful pace.

© 2002 RB