a bit of clarity

a bit of clarity comes not amiss
all forms of choice will have their daily run
but who most matters (beneath winter sun)
we do not speak of nothing is like this
in the unreal but hoped-for realms of bliss
some fool will say or threaten with a gun
each person who declares the myth is done
in the real world we seal things with a kiss
at midnight we will find we're not deranged
when we see only night and the deep scars
of memory are given proper due
we do not find the world suddenly changed
but still as far as ever from the stars
and waiting just as long for morning's blue