If we meet at the place where the art is
Where our spirit thrills with joy
We can skip over eggshells
Avoid falling into holes
Tap to the music
Filling our souls
We can laugh at Mimosa Times
There’s no need to prove how good you are
How bad I am
How wrong it was
Sometime none of this will matter
Would your world be less when I am gone?
Will an echo of sadness fill my world?
I’ve lost two friends to desperate illness, whittled them away
I remember none of the drama, only the smile
The greatest teachers are the most difficult ones
Learn their lessons well
You’ll miss them when they’re gone