The Tide.

At times like these I wish for him.
He'd kiss my cheek and hold me tight.
A lover's caress or
An arm around my shoulder.

When the yellow glare of tomorow
Binds my lips, makes me tremble.
He'd pull away the ribbons of fear
That cling to my very being.

When I'm dragged backwards,
Self branded a failure.
He'd soothe my wounds;
Ease my pain.

At times like these he'd guide me to clarity,
His hand gently placed in mine.
Through the hazy blur of everyday life
To the blanket-like warmth of being content.