Philadelphia blues, sometime in 2009
Cry that tear or smile it away?
Let the words form or say it with profound silence?
Run? Hide? Fly away?
Burn the midnight oil or sleep that extra half hour?
Waist-ful deposits made each day, worthwhile deposits taking a while to make.
New bonds take time to make, old ones so easily break.
The ones in the here and now consume all it takes, and yet, fall short of a pat.
Quixotic ideals in this quizzical world, spinning my mind in a whirl of fate
Change my face and wear a new hat.
Write a new song and dance to a new rhythm.
Armor me with grace
Patience be my artillery
So much irony
In these defenses and instruments of violence
All in the guise of crying out for serenity.