What do you do when it is cold and unforgiving,
When your heart is on parole, but was always willing?

What do you do to bounce back from believing,
When you realize you are a disciple of selective recollection?

What do you do to quell the quiet quivering,
When the onions of opinion sting and tears are spilling?

What do you do to push back from teetering,
When bottled screams scarcely fetch a shilling?

What do you do when the carousel stops careening,
When reality erupts like a wretched rebellion?

What do you do when it becomes calm, yet unwavering,
When your heart is battle-weary, but was always winning?

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