Compromise

It still pricks my fingertips
But my thread refuses to work without the threat of a needle,
So let me weave my pain, as it's fear
And sew that button;

I'll bind it with it's holes,
And let the fluidity of grey matter, be replaced-
The strength over a weakness and his chain of cotton fibre;
Let's sew that button.

But let me ask God first,
He might do it instead.