Okay…sometimes my prose evolves a bit and I tend to change pace. This isn’t a mistake. I prefer this. It’s me. Just as I move forward, my thoughts evolve, old practices become uselss to me in my desire for expression.

Every minute…a glimpse.
Every breath…a pensive thought

To have to hold…our world will not
A frightful place, to love but not hold
A dire thought, to reach and then fold.
Breach that wall, and find much later
To hold and love, and cry and fear
A touch, a moan, a gasp, we draw near
cling to hope, revolt to deny
a heart that wont break, a soul that wont die
plead forever, but then rescind
a wish, to become, if only…your friend
A song is heard, we think we hear
Some notes are heard – some not so clear

We find our voice and chant our own
Our song is made a path is shown
We’ve fought we’ve earned a brief respite
and are together without a flight.
A tune we knew as children flows
unveils its color, we compose
a scene, a trist, a joining, a list
of every thing in the world we missed
however short that list was
we’ve found at length our wonts applause.