I'd like to be a yea-sayer
I find myself saying yes
Seemingly more often than many others I've observed
And sometimes in a string, I say yes and yes and yes
More than a rule of three
It can be a principle
Almost mystical
Not at all spiritual
And Yes takes me places
It's a proper noun, in its own right
It's always right, as Yes won't let me forget
I'm always seeing about forgetting
And then remember, yes
But some of these strings of yes
Can only end in a crashing no
A No that is improper, but nouns right
A left turn on a clockwise track
Crashing into the circle
The hands cannot leave the vertex
But they try, grasping
And it's a surprise, every time
Because I've been here, with you, dear Yes
And you came to expect that I wasn't going anywhere
An entirely reasonable expectation
And so I'll be invisible for a bit
Looking around
For Yes
Because Yes is skittish after No comes to a party
And so am I
Roman Ryan 