There are no simple answers, only easy ones
That trip the tongue
Up on the lip
Of sensible behavior.
And what of love for love’s own sake?
It’s little more than mere mistake
Of one who’d slip
Upon banana-skins and blame the Saviour.
There is no easy choice, but just the obvious ones
That come like setting suns
On days that slip
Into a grave that holds no longer.
And what of learning lessons-learned?
Can anyone learn something earned
By giving lip
To choices that will weaken all that once was stronger?
There are no simple answers.
That much is true.
As for preening prancers
(those who claim to know the answers),
Simply pray they all avoid you.
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