Okay, fine

The day holds no promise yet still it is day.
Life is unpleasant yet still it is life.
Love has no touch yet still it is love
and "yet still" positions the whole damn lot
right on the edge of okay.

The edge is a line drawn to the side
off centre and angled away from desire
and bold, so bold, it makes a good place
to attract and hold the whole human race.

On the brink of this line everyone's fine
in rush and scurry to ensure there's no time
to glitter the surface with bits of a heart
and spread and sprinkle onto the blank part.

But a day in a life without love is fine;
this too shall pass with the blink of an eye
yet still it's a bother because then comes another
and another, another, another.

The line circles, you see, like a net of dis-ease
and traps inside the essence of feel
but, "Hi, how are you?
"Okay thanks and you?"
"Fine, just fine, I'm always fine" ~
and the parcel is passed until I walk away
from the game of life everyone plays!