...than to follow the strong scent of life,
that takes us from here and into decency,
away from the perpetual longing,
that haunts a lonely and nameless population,
ones that are not us,
we grow and pick the moment,
our time to be,
we choose to rescue, we chose to be something more,
than even we remember.
Our fathers knew better,
but their message was lost,
they grew old and troubled,
and we stood as their root,
now a pretentious cloud passes,
and the young become the elders,
and pass on what they can.