When you think you have the bull so by the horns

That the world is yours and without any thorns

And friends seem to abound around every corner

Thus you feel so good for there's no scorners



All of a sudden one appears out of nowhere

And in a cinch - makes you realize there

Will always be another who will rise and putt

Their little ball into holes on your course, but



They will not see it that way, until pressed

And then they will conclude it is you are messed

Up, because you ... have no right to even be

For you are so long past - all you are is a tree



Who should just stand there and drop leaves

As people come and go just below your eaves

And should just hang tight when some push past

Even pretend it doesn't hurt, when really it blasts



You from within, as though a grenade was swallowed

And as you lie there - your inside goes hollow

So you squirm on the ground as visions do ease

And those clear scenes which wafted on a breeze



Now do disintegrate into fragments of past dreams

As all at once, what was to be - now becomes lean

And you reach out slowly as life slowly ebbs

And the person you were gradually becomes bled ...



- Tristram