All good things must come to an end
And of some we’ll never speak
“This too shall pass”
And what we sow, we shall reap.

Too soon, perhaps, for honesty
I’m wordless if I must contain it
Time has made me feral
We’re at an impasse if I can’t explain it

A quarrel’s abrupt resolution,
My opposition now before the Throne
We may never have the chance
To reap what we had sown

To know happiness in grief
Is a seed of shame
Watered with tears
And sprouting in blame

Civility is propriety
And customs must be observed
I’ll meet you where it’s fallow
Our comforts be thus perturbed

Necessarily, in truth.
It would disturb you to know
The magnitudes of our platitudes
And the plants that we let grow.