Buried in my blessing, confetti in my hair

A marginal extraction, a tendency to stare

I'm not much more than floating through the well-polluted air

and hoping that the clock slows down its ticking


Buried in my blessing, confetti in my hair

A world of loud derision, and unproductive stares

with naught but steady failures and all lessons lingered there

as I'm praying that the truths, they are a-sticking


Buried in my blessing, heading for the door

I hold a key tentatively to all that lies in store

but when I reach to turn it, it falls onto the floor

and loudly rolls away it's teeth a-clicking


Buried in my blessing, thank goodness that it's me

although the steps I take don't always seem to end alee

confetti clouds my vision, to the point I cannot see

the subtle truth that all I have is exactly what I need



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