o f t h i s tragedy thing
It seems as though
The ever presence of the word go
Has us questioning:
Will we ever grow
UP AND AWAY
From the DARKNESS we've come to know.
A pressing moment Weighs on the poet To finish her sentence As she currently knows it Urgency quietly calls Through paper-made walls In a form that makes sense Of the daily rises and falls If left unfinished, it never will be For the way life unfolds so quickly.