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für k
On Monday sadness is released
Way into the week
The flow of kindred thoughts has ceased
Why should yet I speak?
My longing soars up with the birds
Bitter grief grows fat
Dead mailbox doesn't hold the words
Never to be read
A glimpse of luck I had in hand
How could it slip away?
There's nothing I can understand
And nothing more to say
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On Monday sadness is released
Way into the week
If freedom's war and bonds are peace
Which of those I seek?
If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with - Stephen Stills
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