7/6/11

In troubled times we longingly,
Think fondly of the everyday,
And crave plain mundane, normalcy,
The times between our disarray.
But as such climates come to be,
And our recoveries assumed,
We may crave kindly sympathies,
For well concealed, yet tender wounds.
Alas, the humdrum casts it's spell,
And through it's chatter we must know,
That those who know us wish us well,
And thus tend to forget our woes.