People walk in and out
I drink the juice and then the tea
I see smiling faces in fotos
everything feels inadequate to me
The past haunts me by
Spurts of happy amidst a sea of sad
The music crashes over the shore
everything feels inadequate to me
I wonder at people working fast
I wonder at the sadness they hold within but say not a word
I wonder at pride and ego and weak
everything still feels inadequate to me
When someone leaves a mark so dark
I try so hard to erase, slow and deliberate
The mind has to let go as much as the heart
everything still feels inadequate to me
I see pastel crayons of red and orange bold
I see a song about a little red corvette
I imagine the twang of a guitar sounds
everything starts to feel a little less inadequate to me
I find comfort in the truth the triumphs
I seek solace in multi-hued meaning of art
I break it down, from wood into splinters
Everything feels a little less inadequate to me
I look at the smiles of my babies i know
trapped in joy and innocence
I read a verse about a trapped bird let free
the mirror shows me beauty and soul which knows no restraint
the first tune of a jazzy ensemble trembles by
I touch the beads, roll them in my hand
soft and warm and comforting
everything stops feeling inadequate to me
