Sometimes silence is the answer,
for the questions we discover:

Will I find what you've buried,
behind the  self's emissary --

that which stands the test of now,
un-vexed by the notions of “how”?

I don't want the facade of a face;
a masked illusion of filtered grace.

There were things I liked about you;
but as I look again . . . –

Still, I must search the depths of Friendship
to find a new way to sift through the *******.

Maybe one day we'll see eye to eye;
maybe some day we won't have to try.

Maybe one day these games will be done;
maybe some day we'll learn to have fun.