You spend all time waiting

For that second chance;

The moment in time

When the particles stop buzzing,

Molecules stop parting,

And time stops going.

But the chance is rare;

It is a message from the Angels to please

The only one dear with the masses;

The homeless one who sees the velvet

Encasing, yet never the wrapping of

a case of wine. She sees velvet,

and nothing else. Not the wine,

Not the dear, and not the mutiny.

She has been given a chance;

A reward for pleasure in fairness,

And a justness for reviewing fantasy.