The Urban Elf

Tidying my bedchamber I discovered several queer looking scraps of paper covered in the ravings of a mad man. Indeed I am as yet not entirely sure if the level of my alarm fell or rose upon the realization that the scribblings were in fact in my own hand. These fragments of a fragmented mind were marked with nothing indicating the dates of their creation, though I suspect the oldest of them could not have crawled from my pen any earlier than nine months ago. Here transcribed are two of the more coherent bits... of scrawl.
_______________________

Show me what you meant to say
Wrong or right
Written down in black and white
All those years ago
When tears softened reason
When anything we said
Was grounds for treason
What is it you meant to say
Falling down on resurrection day
People praise the truth they see
What was the lie you gave to me
When shallow came the tide of truth
Eroding sand from hollow roots
The myth of we still stood in vane
Sneering at my every pain
It could have been
Would have been
Excuses I should never
Ever have uttered
No wonder
Now my heart
From the storm is shuttered
____________________


Stop haunting my mind,
A happy ghost
Of an unseen time
Thrilling my possibility
With your uncertain reality
And its kisses
Made of air
And imagination.