In A Shade Of Our Making

We have never spoken, we will never meet,

Walking the same path on opposite sides of the street,

Into parallel bars.

We will never find, we will never know,

Walking with a different cup, from a different brew.

Up escalating stairs.

Had it all been the same, who knows where it would have led,

On the way through I might’ve been a legend and you might’ve got out of bed.

Reaching the next flaw.

We will keep on walking, we will take a pew,

Looking through the same window with some antonym view.

In a place with no edges at a time without mind, 

In a shade of our making as examples we’ll stand.

All Material on this site © Beth Dismore 2002 - 2018