Persons
Does the peril of a life so perfect
Squander unwept tears?
Does the shiny saucer of a world
Call the horrid fear?
If I disclose a million-fold
The welcome do they serve--
I swear the rugged tundra
Lies beneath a twin-bridged stream.
So open do I say,
I lift you herald high.
Does one who's undeserved
Flow gently without flight?
Does it matter here what genre I portray?
Does it matter then again
That I've lost my square on life?
How many times will it take till I see
What my maker wants of me?
How many writings will I send
Till I meet my calling, please?
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