Searching for a common thread.
Trying to tie up loose ends.
Get a grip,
or get a friend
to come help me clean up my head.
Chasing down a herd of snakes.
Trying to keep up the pace.
Every morning,
same old face
reminds me I’m losing a race.
Stay in motion
and I think I’ll be okay.
Indecision
haunts me,
all the way to my grave.
No sane way
to quit this lame charade.
Keep it moving,
it’s the only way.
Treading water.
Breathing smoke.
Either one’s a death sentence.
Words caught in the throat,
never spoken,
never said the joke.
Now the punch line
is hanging by a rope.
Tie them together.
All these desperate thoughts
and endeavors.
Forget what I was taught
forever and a lonely road ago.
Here I am,
weaving fables,
setting tables
for a feast,
knowing I night not
be the one to eat.
C’est la vie.
Manage to get a grip
on a few.
Burn some
and start over new.
Ask me in the interview
what it’s like to unravel
and try to get through.
Finding patterns
in the weave.
So simple,
you wouldn’t believe.
Even one strand
is still me.
I’m learning what it costs
to be free.
DJR – 2023
