Reconciliation II from Reconciliation by (Person) (Noun)

Peace of mind is whether you've got holes
In your socks or on the soles of your shoes
Thinking big or thinking small
Can catch or crush or cripple all the work that you do

And there's the scent of something sick in every person that I meet But there are trace remains of hope buried there too

And the sound of words, the insipid proof that honesty's played second to
The compelling questions questionably posed
Rhetorically on notebook sheets and printed out in libraries
And sung and stole, emotionally groped

And there's the scent of something sick in every person that I meet But buried underneath are strains of hope

And oh to have the luxury of living life aesthetically
Instead of fearfully, a fallacy, or worse
The drain of living factually, daily facing your mortality
Accepting that we all end up the same
Predictable, explainable, wasteful, resurrectable
Insecure, invincible

A plane that I once flew on had trouble flying
And when it finally landed safely everybody clapped
To this day I still think about the solidarity
And the reconciliation with my fellow human beings
Minutia though these things may be I'm thankful for the opportunity Genuinely grateful for the chance

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