I’m short on precious years
And kin rage without words
Expecting
So calloused by time

Waiting
With sullen
And guilt-ridden eyes
They are launched
From the loving arms of patience

How dare I change course
And leave them to ponder
To stray past the brink
Of their generous deeds

At the proudest peak
Of their honest affections
I weave, indecisive
So frightened
So turbulent and young