Hoboken with Martha and Robin

     

Darcy and I lived on the second floor,

Martha and Robin's place was on the top,

The Caniglias were by the front door,

The apartment was old.   Things were alop.


Is there such a thing as a hidden saint?

A beacon of goodness in a fallen world?  

Well maybe there is and maybe there ain't.

I think Martha was a goddess kept furled.


We moved to Newark, to the back of beyond,

Darcy and I gave up our New York dreams,

Martha helped lift us up from our despond,

Painted our new bedroom in tans and creams.


Do I wish I could go back to change time?

No!  Martha, your life is a perfect rhyme.   

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