On a blue black Monday when my eyes turned red
not a single word was left unsaid
as we left our marriage like an unmade bed
messy and tumbled like we had just woken
filled with things better left unspoken

Be more gentle
the glue is not yet set
neither child nor man
but something in between
you are as yet unformed
a wondering restless thing
forever rearranging
the shifting sea
which constant breaks
and beats the rocks
with pounding fists
to make them change
they will not shift
be not angry at a world
which moves too slow
and way too fast for me
be more gentle, wait a while
find the shape you want to be