Where is when the time has run out and th only thing left
Is "a stupid look on my face"- I swallow as I realize that death
Is as good a friend as is life, that without the other, neither
Would be worth a sneeze in the wind- not a word of it did
Explain the how, which is heard in slowing rainfall trickles
Down a hanging chain tacked to a spout over a barrel half full-
Nor a lump of mud that came into being by a mystery, love-
Yet waiting, thirsty for one more drop: half full is not enough-
What else could do the only thing worth doing, and fail and burn
And beg for: "You are a part because I love you because you are!"
Is it, there?
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