Some days I sit still waiting in my chair,
For the glue to come apart, unraveled
That which holds me together on days,
When I have forgotten about the fight
The good one that I was sure i trudged,
Only to think back and wonder were it so
Seemingly, every corner is darkened,
As if the light were hiding upon the fringe
And I thought it a good place to rest,
If just for a little while until the glue dries
Then I can go out again and remember,
What it was I had been doing before
When I found myself in such a state again,
I'll use a box of thumbtacks, assorted colors
To pin back my worries for when I'm older,
Better equipped to deal with misunderstandings
Or wave a white flag at life's bitter truths,
Whichever helps on a particular day
Acceptance of what I have not found to change,
Not clutching ideals in a balmy, shaking fist
Just breathing, Letting in and letting go,
Minutes converted to hours, days down the road
Livers keep on living despite slipping ships,
Sailed a sea by dreamers looking for a coast
Home is not your pile of useless bits of junk,
Its where your heart sleeps naked, unafraid of cold
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