And We're Not Quite Sure

And We’re Not Quite Sure

A friend of standing no longer is,
A sheltered home of sorts is his.
His boat’s now moored,
His goal is scored,
And we’re not quite sure; although he is.

Never was heard ‘I’ll think about it ‘,
Never was heard a sparkling wit.
But he knew his mind,
A precious find,
And we’re not quite sure; although he is.

Compromise was not a word,
That he uttered or from him you heard.
A difficult life,
Cut with bluntish knife.
And we’re not quite sure; although he is.

What you saw is what you got,
Refinement of the model, total rot.
This is me,
Let it be.
And we’re not quite sure; although he is.

Not afraid, not a coward.
Not a waiter nor contemplater.
Not a thought for what might be,
Not a life for the fancy free.
And we’re not quite sure; but we know he is.

And We’re Not Quite Sure ​

And We’re Not Quite Sure