by Peter W. Robinson

Created on: March 24, 2009

She laughs from high upon us
she knows we are ashamed
with tiny dreams, pathetic schemes
to her we're all the same

Just broken hearts and teardrops
just weakened flesh and bone
the empty space, the downcast face
the race that's never won

She thought it would be funny
to offer fruit as sin
then watch to see, with boundless glee
as evil plays to win

Has it always been so easy?
she wonders to herself
to make believe, and then deceive
to cast this mighty spell

Are people born to suffer
and then to simply die?
to never teach, and never reach
a world of "we" not "I"?

She gathers up her playthings
she stops to scatter seeds
another soul, another goal
she'll meet and then exceed

And tomorrow is another day
another chance renewed
for her to find, and then unwind
the miracle of you

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