Dawn Apostle

These are the lean times.

The in between times.

The belly full,

but sometimes the mind screams

and I’m

nose to the grindstone,

eyes on my own work,

feet on the way to a milestone,

soul on a slow burn.

 

It was my turn

and I took it without question.

My mind made up

no stutter in apprehension.

There’s no depression

when you’re up this high,

just lust green valleys

where I feel alive.

 

It was my time to suffer.

I do it like no other.

Take all the pain

and all the rage,

I get that from my mother.

Endure insane amounts

of bullshit and problems

and still stick around

until I find ways to solve ’em.

 

I never gave up on anything

that wasn’t trying to kill me.

I never walked away,

I stayed,

and I think you’ll agree,

that what we really see

is what we want

and if all we see is bullshit,

then it’s all our fault.

 

So let me – suffer like Jesus,

if he can handle it,

then so can I.

Look up and see me

I’m about to touch the fuckin’ sky.

I don’t apologize

for my words,

or this joint,

it’s not important,

I guess I’m used to disappointment.

 

But I’m giving up on one thing;

failing myself.

It’s like I’m digging a grave

that made for somebody else.

No time left

to try to digest

this kind of help,

all I’ve known is pain;

fuck it – I’ll do it myself.

 

It’s been a while

since I wrote the words to rhyme this way.

I can see the morning’s coming,

try again another day.

These are the early hours

in between the days

where time plays tricks on the mind

and I’m lost in the fade

of grey light

that’s showing me

the way to tomorrow.

Leave behind yesterday’s

sacrifices and sorrow

and borrow a little hope

so I can cope with the pain.

It’s all I’ve made,

clear as day,

in the times between change.

 

HG – 2017

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