The line yet misted
is something convincible
It awkwardly swags in untrusted eyes
and yet still remains
Solid.
How many love poems
included this line
How many old westerns relied upon it
How many rebellious teens could not
wait to tread upon it?
The glorious horizon
much undifferent than that of which were
on,
and yet the phantasm of it
sparks unrest in the hearts of those looking upon it
Maybe yet; it is not the line itself,
but the hope in betterment,
the hope in exotic ideas
the contingency of strange,
and last
maybe
It is not the line at all,
but the wonderment of new!
To the hearts that
have not seen it.
