There must be some vine to clamber down

Some fast car

Some escape

From this listless and unnecessary despair


There is, of course

It lies within my own mind

Within my own capacity to love the air I breathe

To grip the simple joys by the hand

And run with them down a loud city block

Through the fields of chance and opportunity

So why then, am I unable to lift this veil?

Perhaps, I don’t have the strength