If there’s a hole in the heart
There’s a hole in the head
If there a break in the thought
There a snap in the path
If there’s a missing part of the ozone layer of the person I am
Then I cannot go forth with all that I was
If I lose all that was once mine and all that I never knew could leave
Then I search for the new worth that must be here
Among the piles of sand and silt
Beneath the snow and rain
Hidden in the excuses and flashing colored screens

If I can still dream
Then can I find what’s once been here?
If I can still see the misty sea and stormy mountain
Can the rolling waves reach me?
Can the peaks and turrets and spires of silver gray still puncture
through the shell that protects the pearl?
If I can still speak
Then why can I not write?