We
try so hard. Not to give up easily.
On our dreams that spin to thudding silence.
On our efforts at effortless love.
On our predestinations that hide beneath the bed at mid-day, making illusory intimations.
We persevere, as the day ends too suddenly and night comes to blows.
As each fiber of a sweat stained shirt, or flung shoe - or even that torn right hand pocket, begins to flare into filament, shining true in an untrue world.
Always we protect those who would stumble and cry , whose lives would untangle, and by so doing, fall apart.
On our dreams that spin to thudding silence.
On our efforts at effortless love.
On our predestinations that hide beneath the bed at mid-day, making illusory intimations.
We persevere, as the day ends too suddenly and night comes to blows.
As each fiber of a sweat stained shirt, or flung shoe - or even that torn right hand pocket, begins to flare into filament, shining true in an untrue world.
Always we protect those who would stumble and cry , whose lives would untangle, and by so doing, fall apart.
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