You never call
That same little act of persistence that bothers me from someone I don’t want to talk to, bugs me from someone I do
What is hope?
And does it visit often with its cousins pining and naive?
Can I want things to be better and accept them for what they are at the same time?
Because the part of myself I listen to least is the one for whom it’s never good enough
He had a long tenure as ceo, but he crashed the company car too many times to keep him behind the wheel
But damned if he doesn’t know what good looks like.
I love you just the way you are,
But damned if I wouldn’t love you more if you could only make that little change
The one that drifted ground in my life like a gentle feather in the breeze but keeps you stuck up at night or shut down or running away
My lessons are given to me sneakily by a pickpocket in the crowd while I fail to play soccer
I cannot for the life of me make what I want to happen happen.
And yet the rose blooms
The sun rises
And a pocket with a forgotten jolly rancher really just might be all I need to keep going for one more game.
