Passing Stones

Straddling the stroke of midnight
She sometimes comes home
And we lay together in life
But live lives of our own

Our orphaned failures win
Victories we dare not repeat
And we try, and try again
But only the way of defeat

Our past lives are passing
Our baby names on stones
And we lay together in death
But everything dies alone

So we cherish the game
Where each moment we steal
And they say we don’t exist
But the cold rain feels real

Copyright 2008, Daniel Mick
November 18-19, 2008

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