We are a sorry lot,
Imagines a better world,
We chuckle through our own
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.