Thread

A coo, a moan, two lovers groan,
The guff's doors open wide.
A Spark with tail, ride the wave,
A Tthread will attached inside.
Moons of Nine, pass in Time,
A weave, no Loom can claim,
Form a pattern, one for each;
No other, quite the same.
Pain and Violence, shed a Tear,
With cries, a breath first drawn;
Suckle at the Seamstress' breast,
A snip of cloth's first dawn.
Years run up, and walk on by,
The material stretches long.
A fabric unique to each and all,
When collected in a throng.
A rip, a tear, a snap or two,
Each pattern, the Loom may weave,
Mended with fabric, Young for Old,
Some damage makes one grieve.
Time, the Loom, weaves the cloth,
A pattern unique for one.
A Quilt of fabrics, comfort held;
Alone, a pattern undone.
A Thread, a Life, each the same,
Share Future, Present, Past.
A Thread alone floats on the wind,
Such Life can never last.