The Script

This is the script This is the day For a life delayed This is the play The Hip Hip Hooray- A Broadway hit A mental health trip A life filled with fear In every rain drop there is a tear Of the memories that linger year after year A haunted house, a rattling mouse This torrential domain, a soul deeply stained Noose around the neck, for this I stutter, in this I fret- Time is ticking for all the unpaid debt. Looking ahead for the mending of this soul- With its gaping hole- I’ve been warned I’ve been told The journey can be forever until I am old. I swallow the storm, the rain, the clouds, the wind, the sun The moon- Until its noon I swallow it whole, to renew this aching soul- There is no measurement to win, it carries the molestations of Other people’s sin, I remain quietly insane in the melodrama of this theatrical dance as it crawls on my skin like fiery ants. For these things there is no release- In time it will heal and absorb the peace- Letting go of all that I know- Making room for the new I kneel at the pew Awaiting the light that can make things right Putting an end to this decade old fight And finally end this life of fright- This keeps me colliding into this night- To end in peace for the remainder of my life. Photo: The Bronx Times Peter Milosheff, Design Rubin Gilbert. Cover of my poetry book. Dukkah