I'm comfortable down here,
I rest easy down here, for here is the bottom.

Nestled tightly against my bottom is the bottom.
There is no way down so things cannot get worse.

Up there is hope. Hope CAN be poison.
Why would you want to taste poison?

Down here is comfort. Comfort IS home.
Why wouldn't you want to be at home?

Warm, safe, reachable

As usual, she shined as we sat down.

“I don’t know if things will work out”

She dulled.

“it’s just not fair on you”

It was almost dark now.

“I don’t want you to get hurt”

I think back to the start of the conversation. I wonder if she knows, she’ll never be that pretty again.

Why wait until the end of the tunnel?

You can make your own light, wherever you stand.

The sun has long disappeared behind the stage
I'm inspired and sweaty and feeling my age

The amplifiers still ringing in my ears

The smell of the Tagus draws in and I take my tired frame up winding streets
The cafés are open. Piano music. Shoes on cobbles providing the beat

Sat silently listening to the late urban shuffle, people appear from narrow openings between tired, tiled buildings
Are the up late, are they up early?

It's been a long day. A day of fleeting smiles.
I think of you, and there's one more.

This one lasts.

I used to be afraid of the unknown
Until I was taught to see

It's me that is unknown
And these people are afraid of me