There’s a platform between
Bitter and sweet.
A platform for waiting
In sun and in sleet.
It doesn’t have guards
Or security measures
To get there is hard
But to get there is better

Better than sitting in
Places for living in
For winning in,
Smiling in,
For crying and lying in.

It doesn’t have windows
It doesn’t have walls
The platform,
To some,
It isn’t real at all
It is merely a myth
A simple fool’s legend
A nonexistent abyss
But it surely is real
A place for pain to heal
It is for the unfortunate
Who would rather be in between
Than back into their arguments
With love and health and children and loss
With environment, economy, entrapments, and costs.

There’s a platform between
Happy and sad.
Between bright open faces
And useless gray fads.
It has always been there,
Just in between,
Things that are believed in,
And things that are seen.
It can’t be found
But can’t be lost.
It spins round and round
Like an endless striped top.

It’s quite hard to get there,
But easy to leave.
But arriving is better than departing,
It seems.
There’s a platform between
One and One Hundred
Between South and North
Between towers and dungeons
Between tattered and torn
There’s a platform between
Inhaling and breath
This platform
Between
Birth and death.