| |
|
|
| |
It All
Looks Right
In The Light
Friday night,
Firelight.
Friendships and good wine
Sublime?
Yes, on the outside
What’s the up-side?
A place to hide.
On the inside,
Safe and secure.
Sure
In the probable outcomes
Or consequences.
Yet the fences are there
And they reach
Far into tomorrow’s
horizons.
This is no place for elation
Nor for expectations
Beyond those
That can be touched or seen.
This is no place for dreams
Rather,
A forum for schemes
For plots and plans;
The pains that come –
The price of material gain.
Again and again.
So. We simply look on
With disdain
But its just the same at
home.
How often do we lie awake.
Alone.
Hurting.
In pain.
Rejected because we simply
cannot give
All that is expected.
So, we slowly atrophy and
die
And cry ourselves to sleep
Or we weep
Until the dawn ushers in yet
another day.
And somehow,
It all looks alright,
In the light.
17-08-2001
|
|
|
|