all the sacred lists of never done,
the wished upon, bled, un-won.
a struck filament, who knew?
Seeping fire, sweeping through.
in an instant he’s down on one knee,
emoting for all the world to see.
a pool of friends bleat at the door,
full knowledge of the homeless poor.
you get a full calendar to grieve,
suppress your own joy to still live.
he’s standing in line for another fix,
missing, extinct, exiled from the mix.
they’re all trying to make it leven,
seeing signs full-sail from heaven.
it’s a time to step inside your fate;
only make sure it’s not too late.
he said “I want it all to be mine”
and yet he didn’t want to spend a dime.
she lingered awhile beneath Big Ben,
doused by rain, oblivious to all men.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for commenting :)