untitled for now

when what i do touches you
when my pains pain you too
will we cry together?
will it ever get better?
or will I do this without you?

there are things i can do on my own
at some things I'm pretty good
but there are so many things
seen and unknown, mysteries and understood
for these i need the hands of a friend
for these I must have a kindly ear
for these I was born to struggle through
not alone, but not without tears

sparks fly upward, the preacher said
everyone gets to sing the blues
some of us through grace get new words
for our songs, we just have to choose
to sing it well, or to ad lib
to sing along, or sing alone
to learn the harmonies written down
or try to compose our cacophone

the vanity keeps on keeping on
unless something new is made
under the sun, under the sky
like using a lemon to get lemonade
so squeeze me now, press in hard
extract juice and pulp and seed
and drink the results
of your own hand
and you and I will be pleased