We are a sorry lot,

Imagines a better world,

We chuckle through our own

Insecurity,

In order to feel the wise

When another stumbles before

 

I sometimes feel a tear,

When realizing I have lost out

On that formula,

That range of emotion

Allows all of my idiosyncratic

Flaws to step aside and live.

 

I remember the first time

I heard the word, when she described

My decision as a mirror of deceit,

The choice to move against the flow,

Only to satisfy an urge,

I was more intrigued by the word.

 

We have been away for some time,

And the sun still does shine,

That certain way to offer peace,

Peace of mind, and an exhilarating

Reaction to the sheer wonder

Of a natural world that exist around us.

 

So, back to this hope thing,

That piece of our lives keeps us

In a forward motion with our desires,

Our dreams, our fantasy,

I wonder sometimes if the easy part,

Would be the acceptance of time.