If it were within our power,
beyond the reach of slavish pride.
To no longer harbour grievances,
behind the mask's opportunists [sic] facade.
We could welcome responsibilty
like a long lost friend,
and re-establish laughter
in the dolls [sic] house once again.
For time has imprisoned us
in the order of our years,
in the discipline of our ways
and in the passing of momentary stillness
we can view our chaos in motion.