What’s stuck sticks starkly inside time

Your words, they tangle inside mine

 

Why listen when we do not hear

Why talk when we are most unclear

 

Why try to rhyme, define what’s queer

Painstakingly weave atmosphere

 

Into comfort, erase fear

A tired manner, old and sheer

 

Keeping pace, each other’s peers

Wandering through future years

 

Don’t trip, don’t fall, on truth too near

Grasping to clasp and then to steer