A long procession of cars
Inching down 7th Street
The go-home crowd
To re-charge for another day
So many stories, so much pain and dread
With spots of peace and joy
I sit atop a parking garage
Storm clouds and rain approaching
On an almost cool June evening
‘I sit and I stare’ as the lyrics go
The questions are, of course, at hand
They always are
The why, the how, the what
The answers aloof, the solutions illogical and un-doable
But the Duke plays on the player
Intoxicating, he has answers
If only life were a sheet of music
Put it on a stand
Get out the horn
And blow, and blow, and blow
**** **** ****
She meant to be caring and tender
He meant to be kind and gentle
They met, they mated, they married
They lived a life of hide-and-seek
He, then she, the chameleon
The end game completely concealed
All the questions unanswered
All the desires unfulfilled
All the dreams vanquished
Bitter and resentful came to visit
Cold indifference a roommate
A story of my parents
May God help me
**** **** ****
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