If one could tally all those wasted days
and keep them in reserve for better feats,
Or save a foolish thought,a senseless phrase
to rearrange each one in tidy sheets...

Then there are tears that never would be shed
and angry outbursts better left alone;
a million useless words best left unsaid
so more productive seedlings could be sown.

if tolerance could take the place of hate,
or better still,if love was absolute--
it would do much to lessen all the weight
that keeps the world in constant disrepute.

We weave a tangled web of vicious strands
then struggle to be freed from their demands.

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