You and I are orphans of hope,
paper orchids planted in gardens otherwise
left blank and morose.

We are yin
we are yang,

white dot soft and passive,
semi-circles forever chasing
after him.

She arrives half empty
but equally

You and I have
heads in the clouds with the
world in our dreams.

That lives of accomplishments end
in mortal defeat doesn’t make your time any
more arbitrary than being born
without two feet
on the ground.

So let’s make it

Because you and I may not have
started out with cards stacked in our favour but
the added challenge gave you flavour,

and it will probably
play out for the worst, anyway.

4 thoughts on “Orphans

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