In a snap,
Cast to the skies
A quarter in revelations

It hangs for a moment,
To ascend
And succumb to the odds

The time I cried
And thew my cards
Across the floor

The time I smiled
And thanked you
For the patients it takes

Naked frustration is
A landscape of voices,
Begging you to be what you are

But all that reflects
Is tethered to uncertainty
Potential is awash

In the twinkling moments
Of genius perceived, but wasted
As the nights that begot them

The celebratory hours
Seemed to forecast
Less ordinary futures

But the paper thin,
Angry kid
Always clawing for scraps

He couldn’t have enough
Curious and cautious
A gapeseed for the impractical

If I could latch to one thing
To make that my master
If I could commit

If I could break the paralysis
That hinders even my words
If I could give a ****

Then it wouldn’t be so unsettling
To watch the quarter drop
And not contend with the difference