just like you, i held the hands of the sad ones.


guided them through tired mazes and masses
to
find their magic.


what's the good in being blissful when you're oblivious




these men. these men
hold so much more than you
(how can i raise a man
to see magic?)

it will take another lifetime out of me.



you are made of slate and not a kinder rock
you don't settle, and blend, and bend with me.

you make this so hard