“Our Song: A Song for the Ages”

Between the lion tamer and his faithful whip

Between the cyclist and his failing grip

A series of events has been lain

In the unspoken terror on the faces in the crowd

A pause will remain

So long and so loud

Between the elderly man’s slender lips and the pipe from which he draws

Between the rags on the bag-lady’s crippled hips and the skin that’s weathered and raw

There is a dust that will not settle

A plot of time that’s lengthened by age and desire

A final whistle from an unattended kettle

Lost forever in the rage of a fire

Between the blue-collared man’s tongue and the words that go unsaid

Between the homeless, the hungry, and the mouths that go unfed

There is a scream in the night that is curdled with fear

A plea for those who will listen

A call to whomever will hear

When against the torn skin, the moonlight will glisten

Between the shattered mirror and the broken marriage

Between the threatening storm and the unprotected carriage

A child’s tousled hair stands up on end

Ruffled by the hand of a suspicious stranger

Missing his parents and in need of a friend

He’s gone in a flash before sensing the danger

Between the sun, the moon, and everything in between

Between the hours of night and day; time spent in a dream

A teen rocks back and forth with a razor in his hand

Releasing his demons with a brush and a knife

Rocking through his teen years, he soon becomes a man

Thankful that he never took his own life

Between the white-knuckled rider and the reins pulled dangerously tight

Between the boxer, the gloves, and the bruises from the fight

There is a song that’s heard for miles

Down the streets and in the halls

Through the tears and through the smiles

Through the ceiling, floor, and walls

A song that will be heard for ages

Which will ring in all the streets

Which will rattle the cages

Inventing its own beat

It’s everyone’s song

Young and old

Lonely, or cold

We all sing along

To the beat of our own song

— David Allen

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