for that darkened dream to glow
That stagnant stream of sanity,
it's never been so slow
I've been standing on this thickened ledge,
of stacks, of crates of empty
All but one has misunderstood,
and though no one ever gets me:
I've seen shards of glass,
seen muddied traces of fast
And have never been warned by them
Nor have I looked, and out of spite
Turned away from the mayhem
I've been shallow all of my life,
from standing with my eyes half closed
Peering between them, never stifled
Just another day disposed
I've been waiting far too long,
for my chance to stop and go.
This poignant past of pessimism
Is like solace to the snow
