We will Never  
win
in this our
Dream

I reach for you,
  with ribbons.

What?

favor  is THIS.

To go on?

You set this stage.

Tomorrow and tomorrow
and tomorrow

creeps in this my souls
petty pace.

All alone

I sit by the window.
The ****** wash
of resolution

Rinses

me .

Will you ever sing to me
In the
music's lowest chords?

Ever again?

A chanty…

you sing
My love.

While I Cry.

alone.

Caroline Shank
9.11.2025