The Juggler

To juggle the past, the present and future Torn at the seams of its healing suture Wounds stay fresh and eventually scar Weary of change, but accepting by far Masked with patience, has been self taught Reviving the few, of whom still sought Not of body, but out of mind Bitter the taste, to now unwind Select the sheep, to which is herd Open of sense, but mum's the word Drop the staff and walk away A heart too pure, to lead astray Diminish the state, that has been given See thyself, in a life worth living Free from judges, jokers and thieves A happier life, is the lesser of these