How can you not see the open door in front of you?
How can you not store up all this future joy?
How can you not get it right in any way?
How can you get it so wrong?
How can you spend so much time in all these rhymes?
How can you want to long for so goddamn long?
How, in truth, can you not be happy with
all the signs
clear in your favour?
But then how, in truth, can you not have been bad at life,
when around you
you were surrounded
one person who defo was?