"Expecting"
Life, belligerent as ever
Added a third life to two
When two was already too much.
Who is this silent form dwelling between us,
Resting below your heart and in the back of my mind?
It’s sheer responsibility,
The brute unwaning tyrant.
A cold hard fact born warm and soft.
And I do not mean to be obscure but how
Can the lifeless and the loveless to this one now give both?
This sharp tang of disappointment:
A surprise, a secret sin,
The shame of the shame of the error.
And we wonder at a world in which the good
Has so strangely and suspiciously become the bad.
Tell me, love, how many ideals
Are we standing now to lose
So that Life might stand as it is?
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