A man is slowly jogging
While a little girl follows closely
On a wobbly bicycle;
And I want to cry
I always want to cry.

For every family’s tragedy
Contained within the stars and soil,
For our accursed chromosomes
Who blithely co-conspire with time,
And for the joys that make up life:
More precious than even
Our dreams can conjure.

Both in bright green for safety
There along the half-dark roadside.
The same dark hair and eyes,
At a pace too slow for one
And too fast for the other.
And I have to smile
At times like this I smile.

Moments make the days
Into a life,
And one’s own pace is a small sacrifice
For love

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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