The answer turned around a minute late
yet still my begging mind is fine embarrassed.
Like merchants laugh or stab at my mistake,
but dreams may reach for what the young men cherish.
A turning page of burdened knowledge heaves,
and finds a rest of peace within the fire?
In rain, exempt from roaming frightened beasts;
my need for real completeness hither dire.
I try pretending like I never cared
a willow's whisper trails along the wind,
the burden flung, it leads to broken stairs
that rise an unknown flurried thought to think.
With yet to know what love's embrace achieves
a bashful mind askew may never see.
