A Year to the Day

With a heavy heart
and such feeble hands
and a yearning mind;
I think, while I can,
that I finally now begin to understand.
Not all battles are meant to be won,
not all tree trunks are meant well to stand,
not all bowers are meant to see sun;
in fact none,
and not all waters are meant to meet land.
Gardens will sing in the sun,
but in order to dance gardens too need the rain.
Darkness cannot be undone,
but a brightness much bigger can shine through the pain.
A year to the day since we met,
never forget,
the memory feels like it’s happening now.
A day since the sun chose to set,
always I fret,
so I look in the mirror and bend over to bow.
White chocolate bark on a table that folds,
plays my mind in the dark is a tale to be told,
all the weight that I hold is much denser than gold,
and I would trade my heart cold for my soul that’s been sold.
With a heaving heart
and two trembling hands
and a desperate mind
I think, as I can,
that the bitterness of my fate I understand.

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