Fivefivefive

Driving and thinking of my friends that are gone. I weep for them because they have died to soon. But they come to me alive and free with their secrets. I see them when I close my eyes. The tattoo we got is fading. I'll be back. I can't speak but the man on the corner knows. I hold up my hand and make a peace sign. I stutter and most don't want me around when they are getting high. Crawling on the floor searching and the peepers lifting the blind. I paid through my soul and with fear. I'll be back And that fear of not finding blinds me against the wall. Reluctantly I give another piece of darkness. I have learned sign language as again I hold up the peace. The man searches my face as he bends down and reaches into the trash. He hands me two and I soar home and its clear. I'll be back.