The hours pass
Like streams of sand
Through a glass
Pressed for time.
Or an empty space
Built on trust
Filled with dust
Blessed with rhyme.
When a word strayed
This world I made
Finally made sense
Except for me
And my pretense.
Where did I think
I’d be
Without all this crass?
Can you feel the grass
Beneath the shade
When we played?
A moment I missed
Chew on this
Stew on that.
What to do
When we knew
The bow was broke
And so are you.
BeLove © 2017

Guy Clark – “Maybe I Can Paint Over That”

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