wistful.
a fist full of memories
that don't run away like sand
and these legs of jello
that try to take a stand
i wiggle and I jiggle and i quake
and i am certain only of my past mistakes
this heart full of passions
and these arms full of need
and each day unfurls like flags of glory
to someone else's deeds
and folds again like ceremonies
from the coffin of this day
as night rises up like walls of earth
the day sinks into the soil
the spirit of the night comes on
to wail its song of sorrow.

give us this day our daily bread
but really
give us what we truly need
and help us to find joy
and strength.

her soft sweet voice

will any other one
ever bring me joy?

oh calamity.