ALMOST IN YOUR HAND

IT'S JUST THE SOUND
THE WIND
THE BEAUTY OF IT ALL
THE RAIN, THE REASON OF IT ALL
THE HATRED, THE NONSENSE OF IT ALL
IT'S JUST THE SOUND
THE BLUES OF IT ALL
THE DEEPNESS OF FEAR AND SUBTLE SADNESS
THAT WILL NOT LEAVE
BUT LIES DORMANT
IN THE STREAM
THE VOICES, MAKE SCREAMS
YET, IT IS THE COOLNESS OF IT ALL
THE LEMONADE ON A LOPSIDED, CRACKED WOOD PORCH
IT'S THE JOURNEY OF IT ALL
THE RIDE TO GETTING  SOMEWHERE
AND THEN, IT'S OVER.
ANOTHER JOURNEY BEGINS.
THE DESTINATION IS NOT AS CHALLENGING.
THE BUMPS, HILLS, SLOPES, FRIGHTENED TIMES
 MAKE THE HUSTLE WORTH IT ALL.
IT'S THE NONSENSE OF IT ALL
WHEN WE GO, WE ALL GO SOMEPLACE,
MAYBE THE SAME PLACE.
THE DREAMS OF IT ALL
REACHING HARD AND HIGH FOR THAT THING
AND OUR ARMS ACHE AND ACHE
AND WE REACH AND REACH
AND ONE BLOW CARRIES IT AWAY ON A GURNEY.
I JUST DON'T BUY IT.
I JUST DON'T GET IT.
I JUST WON'T LET IT.
DESTROY MY INNER PEACE.

THAT DREAM WAS ALMOST IN YOUR HAND
AND THEN, SOMEWHERE, SOMEHOW, THINGS
BROKE
AND SMASHED AGAINST A WALL OR A FOOT CRUSHED IT.
 YOU HUNG IT UP ANYWAY BECAUSE IT MEANT SOMETHING
  AND NOBODY EVER REALLY CARED.
THE UGLINESS OF IT ALL.
THE MEANNESS OF IT ALL.
THE AUDACITY OF IT ALL
IN YOUR FACE OF HOPE ---IN YOUR REACH OF HOPE
NO ONE EVER REALLY CARED.