roses from africa

they stumble but the march of progress goes on –
distilled in a book and captured in song,
when laughter drowns the dogma we’ll be free.

nature doesn’t need to win this one with words
and somethings rise, others fall I’ve heard,
remember this as rings inside a tree.

i won’t be the last one out the door and this is all just make believe

so i make my mind to take my time,
a bird silhouette on the laundry line,
the blackberries are ripe, it’s havest time again.

did summer come early? did it come at all?
flip-flops in puddles all down the road.
the ice is melting someplace far away.

i won’t be the last one out the door and this is all just make believe

a ring of roses and they all fall down –
water the blooms but forget the town.
sacrifices or indignities?

please tell me something i can understand,
a truth i can hold in the palm of my hand,
a song i can sing for all humanity

i won’t be the last one out the door and this is all just make believe

the theatre of man has come to town
the curtains back, the house lights down
spotlight on a blushing history.

don’t try to make sense of the words above
i’m not the only one confusing war and love –
do whatever you must to live your dreams.

i won’t be the last one out the door and this is all just make believe

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