Might I Be Excused, Please?

The air in this room is getting too thin
With the assumptions used to fatten you up
It doesn’t cost an arm to care
Not every storm comes with a dark cloud
So are the things we cannot explain

Time and chance has a will of its own
And it does not carry a warning sign
Next thing you know it sews your lips shut
Leaving you like a stranded fool
You have what to say, you just can’t say it

A hug and some words of care travel a long way
For the misunderstood, a salvation cross
Before you reprimand, this piece was unplanned
Sometimes lower your eyes so we can meet your gaze
Oh please, get off your high horses.
This breeches are getting too tight.

Vera