My mind fights me.
Crown of thorns,
or just another
bored,
Wednesday morning junkie?
Looking like another
cold piece,
and I’m in season.
Never for a second
doubted,
never really had
a reason.
Wrong side of the tracks.
Wrong side of the
Judeo-Christian question.
Too many words out
to take them back,
but I have to ask;
if we must live in the past,
then how far back?
When is the lie
big enough for the task?
I cast my eyes about,
seeking some structure,
some comfort,
in this expectation,
but there is absence
of amelioration
where I should find
my home.
Conflict
where there should be worship,
and truths
in stranded shelters on the road.
All the word’s a play,
and all the world’s a stage.
Line made adlib,
caught up on the spot.
Every day a game
of connect-the-dots.
The face in the sky,
is just a cloud.
I hope we make Him proud,
don’t wanna let Him down.
I start this day the same
as I have
for a while now;
one foot in the grave,
the other on the ground.
HG – 2019
