The world seems so out of balance.
Perhaps it’s only me and mine.
Sometimes the music for the dance
makes every step a dotted line
with the next motion left to chance.
The world keeps spinning, just the same.
It doesn’t matter if the tune
is out of rhythm. Who’s to blame
when one foot shifts its weight too soon?
It’s just a dance. It’s just a game.
The world goes on and on in time,
while we are here a while, then gone,
just shadows, fading and sublime,
whether of queens, bishops, or pawns.
We dance on, while the bells still chime.
19 Jun 2025
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