sola.

a door opens,

but not by me. 

responsibility 

to respond

and receive 

a fix, yet the problems 

still exist. mixed 

company to coupling 

to troubling the waters 

of my soul. and still, 

i enjoy the thrill 

of substitute teachers; 

yet i never learn my lesson. 

 

replacements and refreshments to 

edify my soul. and yet, 

i sit and fret 

about tomorrow’s agenda. 

no money guaranteed 

for time spent then, 

but today we can see 

overpaid athletes. 

 

lifetimes upon lifetimes 

before i can even dream 

of. America,

is this the bliss that you speak

of? robbery in broad daylight 

as the distance takes flight 

between groups of people 

which there seems to be no 

"we". the Constitution no longer from 

we us. but why do i care enough 

to entertain the news? an 

apolitical soul with the apathetic 

blues. now i see different hues 

and shades than i did back then; 

it’s bright outside... 

 

...even in the night, 

a full moon illuminates the situation 

of life and its contemplation 

of events within and intentions shown out- 

ward. no other direction but for- 

ward in all conversation. 

so as shadows cast 

depict an embrace, 

the first and the last 

of things to come, 

the evening remains as hollow 

as the dark which is hard to swallow. 

 

the moon still shines, 

but i don’t drink ever- even tonight. 

scowls and howls for and/or 

at an object which relies so much 

on something else. it burns 

and travels, the situation unravels; 

still too dark to tell. 

nevertheless, i wish it well...

 

...then a door opens, 

but not by me. 

opportunity 

to respond 

and receive 

a fix, yet the problems 

still exist. mixed 

company to coupling 

to troubling the waters 

of my soul. and still, 

i enjoy the thrill 

of substitute teachers;

is this my final lesson? 

what about the heart’s whole...

Comments

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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