Easy come
easy go
I've watched the parade
march in and out my door
the flute players
and the drummers
the only thing they share
in common
is their transience
while I play the silent monolith
stoic
with eyes that must
not water
I see the couples
when I'm out and about
so many of them look
mismatched to me
but at least they've got something
(a roll of fat maybe)
to hang onto through the night
been in that comfortable rut
before
and a comfortable rut
is still a rut
with
ironically
less and less rutting
taking place
as time goes by
does it matter
which life you choose
when there's no way to win?
but
the one thing I've learned
and maybe I'm "lucky"
in that respect
is that pain
is the only way
to feel truly alive
