My trumpet blows, as the wind,  
My next journey, a trip,  
Amongst a lil bitsy stain…  
On my shirt,  
Taking an occasion with someone  
Who identifies me…as we lay.  
But it’s sometimes… desperately needed.  
Thank you for sharing—  
My anchor, yet we’re on dry land,  
For genuine principles.  
I gotta be…where I need to go,  
And how…  
Am I gonna get there,
When Alice is the one holding my hand?  
is there peace… in silence?  
They say, it’s where YHWH dwells,  
Pays for rain, washed in faith.  
No one said,  it was gonna be easy.
As I see her fading, like cigarettes smoke
How  much should one endure?  
When the squeak wheel receives her reward.