Sunday, July 2, 2017

Respectability














bright morning sky,
what do you hold in store?
is it another day
that calls me here,
or only a roll
of the celestial dice,
is there really a choice,
or simply an option,
is it drama
or is it comedy,
am I really that different,
does it matter at all,
should I laugh
or should I  cry;
perhaps
a little of both;
you wear respectability
like a bullet proof vest,
a shield between the world outside
and the darkness within,
necessary,
but unwanted,
donning it
for convenience sake,
removing it when
you think it is safe,
hiding all you so desperately
cry out to reveal;
the passion
you used to feel,
the voice that cuts
like a fine razor’s steel
calling from far away fields
and midnight rendezvous;
alone;
where only a few go,
and only a few know.
.

.

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