Spectroanalysis

If I've learned something
From counting tallies on weathered walls
And playing catch with tethered balls,
Morning does not dictate the day
And latter shades of blue will do something to you too.

From yearning in your dreams,
Odd and unheld,
To waking up to things
Unfinished.
But departure will shake your core
Until you can't take any more of the sound
And just as it gets worse,
Your feet leave the ground.
Then suddenly the air doesn't seem so dense
And the patchwork farms patch up and make sense
The clouds reveal the daybreak's suspense
While you squint to see life
In a new lens.

Everything falls into place
With a controlled steady pace:
Your heart in my hands,
Your awkward phrases I heard
Like the sound of baby's laughter
While you sing the wrong words