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
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