The If's, the But's, the Why's
The Who, the constant sighs,
The mighty, they flourish, you think,
The unwanted, just dither and die.

The popping that leads to forevers,
The chanting, the calling of names,
The longing that heals the displeasures,
The knowing that things stay the same.

The forgotten so eager they were,
Their heads buried in worries so common ,
The gifted, bright, almost shining,
Dwelling on all who have long been forgotten.

A worry, a sigh, a prayer, a ponder
A closed fist of fears
The woes, the barriers, the dreams
Beginning, how they end.
A life, a hope, a mirror of the same.
The commentary, ongoing, monotone,
Unresponsive, how it never ends.
A pain, a thought, a look.
A door opened, the enemy is in.
The shame, the loss of life, ending.
A feeling, a cry, a question
Bullets, so many. It never ends.

I have a plan. It involves you and me.
To go to the sea, to see what has yet to be seen,
To be where no other ought to be,
To follow no footprints left in the sand,
Walking ever so quietly, hand in hand.
Reaching a place not stood on before,
Looking out to the night from a wondrous shore!

What's out there but a sheet, waiting for new notes.
A stave with a treble clef, no rhythm yet sewed.

Brave movements burning from behind the walls,
Lyric upon lyric, spinning towards a greater cause.

All that is waiting to be plucked into life,
A melancholic tune creating such instant delight.

What's out there but snapshots of everybodies song,
Listen to the words telling you to where you belong.

A first step,a page turner, a warm embrace,
All out there, the treasure for you to chase.

What's out there but a person that you don't yet know.
They will touch you, might hurt you but help you to grow.

Not knowing where I belong; 
Here, at home or beyond?
Spreading thin, cut in quarters,
What became of the unity we fought for?

Afraid of the landscapes built upon
We paint over lived canvases,
Struggling to focus for too long,
Looking for the creative thread among the masses.

Saying we will settle in years to come,
Waiting for a moment telling us its time,
"Don't you know that settling isn't for some",
They shout as they search for a place to call "mine".

Firstly perched close to the shore,
Seagulls as a waking call,
Horizons as signs of furthermores,
Avoiding any reminder of the restricting city wall.

Secondly a little closer,
To those who we hold in our hearts,
Greeting mornings with a train tracks murmur,
What an adventurous start.

Then wishes slowly lost their power,
Landscape stretch to resemble concrete cubicals,
Lighting up in the midnight hours
Yet another sign of the lost will.

Third is when we return to where it all started,
A full circle without filling the core,
Was this what all the searching led too?
Is home where I began reaching for?

It doesn't need an ending, 
just a beginning and middle,
Endings are the one sure thing,
In life's great sodden riddle.