Look to yourself for help
A shuttle slips a loom, a bed.
Warps the breath of another thread.
A thread of life that weaves a web.
That ebbs the thoughts within your head.
A give and take, germane to bloom,
A product of your daily loom.
It sculptures all the bad and fair,
Whatever euphoria, it must wear.
However the facts, however the change.
Depending on the size and range,
It adds each day a timely thread
And does this, until you are dead.
Beware the ways of thoughtless prowl.
Weave it straight, don't go afoul.
Make a plan, do what you can,
Belief or no, in your fellow man?
There are some helpful hints in play,
The ten commandments offers a way.