Fixing Us

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I'm waiting for it to ripen,
freeing my mind from all cares
forgetting about my sin,
giving up all these shares.
It will bring suspense.

I withdraw in solitude,
grasping for the future -
of events I've cued.
You stumble so unsure.
Change is the key.

Apply yourself earnestly.
This is a partnership,
listen to me - to see.
Lets do this lip-to-lip.
You will be surprised.

This is the general destruction,
of the mutual pain.
We need to learn to function -
to keep us sane.
It will be better.

We are together
for better or worse,
when will it occur,
when we no longer curse -
Each others existence?

When the time is right,
I can change this.
Never stop the fight,
for that certain kiss. . .
that says everything's alright.



It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien