Grimbeau

Take the air, the quack

said and so we

caught the only sun,

the rest have weekends off,

shining on the righteous

who know who they are,

or have been, or keep trying.

The unlucky ones,

the unrighteous rump,

get no sun,

they know who they are too,

and can’t or don’t want to

do anything about it.

At night they become the majority,

there are just a few

righteous burning most nights,

but they cast no shadow then,

they are the ones

dreaming the same dream

on that special night.

A night that everyone has sometime,

whether they deserve it or not.

A dream like this.