Cant's say I'm surprised,
can't say I'm shocked,
a little let down probably
but can't say I won't be mocked
A light moment here
A light laugh there
A little ray smeared
A little hope, that's that.
In the hurried play,
the scurrying rat falls
dusts itself, not to stay
Back in the muddy gall
Where forward doesn't mean ahead
And up is never high
When we take things further below the grave
when distance draws nigh
when night meets day
and left meets right
when the figment of imagination draws a line
and toeing doesn't bring respite!
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