Do we take flight in the safety of night,
Teasing our way towards distant light?
And if we do, what sort of view
Are we trying to hide from the few?

Do we take rest on the cold hard ground,
Teasing out tension unknown now found?
And if we do, what sort of view
Are we failing to see past the dew?

Do we take gifts for granted,
Teasing the giver, treat them unwanted?
And if we do, what sort of view
Are we showing a child or two?