days bear down.
a tiny thin hope

snaps in the wind,
its end is silent
and deafening.

how can i tell
you it won't change,
not a thing?

this has since
become of no
importance,

now an everyday,
mundane occurrence
and i'd love to help you.

but i know i can't
and you know i can't,
the vapor of this thin

night knows it too.
it is my lack
of will and skill.

too many voids,
where is beauty tonight?
when is it?

as the wheels pull
away from the curb
grand attempts

will be made
to forget it,
to let it slip away.