Random

I thought I should write
Of boardrooms and fright;
Of bleeding hearts as ever,
Or people's repartees so clever.

But all I can think now
Is of that fluttering glow;
A thought as sad as me,
An emotion that wants to be free.

The fact that I could be a loser,
A foreboding of a tragic fate;
A beggar, not a chooser,
A matter of eternal debate.

A giving heart, a hoping heart,
A burdened heart, an eager heart;
And a little brains to know
That you're not always meant to be so.

Time is the best healer,
And I need lots of it,
A sense that all's not ended,
And there's a way around the bend...