My left hand is my cigarette hand When if you could see me you would understand I have a glass of Merlot in my right At any respectable time of the night But both my hands would be happy for An embrace face to face to grace them once more Once or twice more for a time before soon Would be nice to wonder by under the moon Bon vivant-ing the vaunted haunting Of time in a place as way out as in space Seeing what I am though that is daunting Being that I see what I am is alone Hanging on and hoping for the best Determined to meet mortality with grace On with my show by the love you have shown Getting through it trying to forget the rest Whereof seeing love being above Me in the end out of this test my best friend Turning out me then learning to feel free Somehow this way anyway now this is me Getting on with getting it I guess Perfecting poetry though I am a mess Fruits of my failures becoming success As blessings of endurance under duress Where the desert stars go on and on So I guess I will until I am gone +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXIII