Hindsight.

I climb trees in my mind, just to finally reside,

by a river where I can streamline.

I observe peoples paces as they try to deny,

that time has a way of making the blind even lie.



These days carry on just to make a new night,

cause' the moon has a way of welcoming all foreseen fights.

Then the morning drapes itself in white,

while soaking up the broken stones,

Thrown the night before.



I might have broken all of the ties,

but I still think of you from time to time.

You hang your humor out for all to see,

cause' you know with truth comes responsibility.


-M