I am only the implication
Of a truth not yet composed.
Wherever there are statues
There are hearts that coincide.
Every morning another reaper
Finds his mark, it no longer matters
If the target still walks so long
As the eyes can be held down.
Maybe we are all the better part
Of nothing much and maybe
We are fine most of the time
But some days never begin
No matter how avid the adieu.
A quick one from me. This weekend will be hectic and then Monday I have the inspection I will try to write new poems if time permits.