Pushing the Broom
If I refuse to be too happy,
maybe I can avoid being too sad.
I've seen my share of joy,
and more than my share of tears.
With every high comes broken glass.
And this floor is such a mess.
I'd rather push a broom,
so I can have a clean room.
I have no helium for my balloons,
though I have plenty of gas.
And I'm feeling the weight of time and disappointment,
though the sun is high above the gloom.
I understand with my heart,
that shadows are just an artifact of objects.
We stand in the way of the light,
and then we wonder at the darkness.
I'm glad I've come so far,
I wish on a falling star,
that my time can make some meaning,
and I can love another day.
Some days are easy to love,
But each demands love in its own way.
and sometimes loves demands aren't gushy wushy;
But just efforts and a course to stay.
Birthday, September 10, 1955-2012