Walk soft, boy.
Tread lightly.
This is my heart.
You stand on
bruised ground
abused ground.
I can love.
And I can give.
But not to those who can't return.
I need you
to wear soft gloves
and take me out
and be happy
by making me happy.
I need to go back to those days.
I thought we were.
Headed back to the good times.
Maybe
I am lost in those good times
of the past.
There is no time machine.
There is no easy button.
I can try,
and we can try,
and we can make it if we pull hard enough.
Do you know that?
We can.
But will we row our boat,
or, convinced of a leak,
jump?
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