The Brag that I Am (Alive)
Too much love to give
Means too much love to hide
And too much self approval
Means too much indulgence and strife
Too much water given
And the water is turned to wine
Too much sharing present
And it is never thine
But ever mine ever ours
Excess of April Showers
Brings only floods in May
And Draught in June.
You, lift up thy face to the Hoary head
And stop. And wait. How long?
Until you realise that pain is seldom evil
As it forces one to acknowledge
The beating of their own heart
