Breakfast with a side of grace, please
These things would have blackened
Like little drops of blood
Sprinkled in a flowerpot.
Becoming festering blisters
Across a life already too beautiful.
I would not have walked away happy.
Because you explained to me, gently,
In the most gracious way you could.
And I want to hear “Not yet”
And I cradle this idea in deep satisfaction.
As if something was won.
Because I know how to play it well.
Maybe I should think “never”
And hold this idea.
Because I do not understand
The full beauty of this life.
Not now. Not yet. Maybe never.
And in all of this,
I wandered upon something that I lost a long time ago.
Something forgotten almost, but still hoped for.
A friend tells me this is success.
And across a thousand years this is what I wanted.
This is what was forgotten.
Just that chance to be true.
No more than that.
Just that chance to be beautiful.
To shine on those flowers
In the only way I knew.
Yes that’s what I hoped for.
The wind stirs the sand, uncovering those old dreams.
Those simple dreams buried deep in the flower pot.
The flowers there, now blooming so bright,
As the flowers gently sway in the wind,
How was I to know
That I would walk away fulfilled?