I got to feeling gloomy,
No reason, just too much.
Those words, so far, not easy,
Be quiet, do not fuss.
And tired, keeping cheerful,
And smile if I can.
Above those words of medicine,
And love of this one man.
It's 'metastatic' movement,
It's 'palliative' care.
It means nothing on the paper,
To me it's everywhere.
I can't escape the meaning,
I can't avoid the fear.
I try to cover over,
And bring my loved ones near.
And bombs and guns and suffering,
All worldly woes and fears.
Above those words of freedom,
The bigotry and jeers.
Unlike those tragic victims,
My battle gives me time.
To say the words that matter,
To make a peace with mine.
But cloudy, dowdy,Sunday
And sorry for myself.
The words that clog my heart strings,
Lie dusty on the shelf
I think people have forgotten,
Its all gone on so long.
I'm crying in the side-lines,
It surely must be wrong.
And have you seen how well she looks?
And yes she seems content.
It cant be what they say it is,
It can't be what she meant.
They cant believe or fathom,
They cant maintain the pace.
They've given hope and kisses,
They've looked me in the face.
But months and years are passing,
And now as time goes by.
We're left to keep on smiling,
And always wondering why?
So cry alone and silent,
So love can give me hope.
So much intense emotion,
So far, so near to cope.
And Paris streets are shaken,
And Syrian children cry.
And I consider lucky,
I know the reason why.
But need a little help now,
A visit or a word.
The world and we need healing,
Your voices must be heard.
Content' and 'well' and 'happy',
The mirror can tell lies,
Just look a little closer,
You'll see it in my eyes !
So share with all a smile,
Give each a word, a thought,
Remember we're in this together,
This life, this world....or naught.
.
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