Supple

Supple.

The emptiness drains from your eye,
the cradle that snatches the youthful energy away.
We try, try and try.
What we don't, we forgive.
What we do, we give.
When we save the forgiven from here.
It empties the draining spirit.
Yes, we lived.

Crankle the spanner,
Steer the slamming brakes on the door.
We need to see the slit in the light.
When the chance crackles,
Beg, steal, borrow we not.
The cool bang throb.