a raw day

[fledgist]

 if there's a means of holding firm in place
we've lost the art of balance without thought
our every moment with great fear is fraught
and each misfortune leaves its angry trace
we have no stopping point in deepest space
and nothing happens we have not been taught
still in the oldest trap we soon are caught
and pain declares its presence on each face
a bit of wind and leaves fly by in haste
to destinations that they do not know
but still the heavy cloud may give us rain
there's much we do that isn't to our taste
but we've been told to keep up with the flow
and stay in balance all the rest is plain