I'Ve Cut Off My Ear, Again

an unexpected and unwanted child who should have had his own basket to float down the Susquehanna hopefully into loving arms rather than to drown in tears of sorrow yet even the worst tide holds a treasure beneath its murky waters for Love dwells even in the ripples of hell I knew it once upon a crippled foundation that stood erect when needed a crutch that never wavered but even the tears have washed that away memories, ahh such painful delight held dear by those who refuse to let go for to do so, is to retire to bask in torment finding enjoyment in a soul decaying wanting and praying for death it's almost here I feel it approaching soon over the horizon of bliss calling, echoes of sweetness so stubborn am I a champion of insubordination never one to surrender to the illusion of peace there used to be tranquilty after every storm a rainbow of sorts painted with black and blues on clouded closed eyes that prayed for a better tomorrow which seldom if ever came fallacies of hope and faith that produced worm infested fruit baked into nurturing pies their growth risen within the yeast of alcoholic doom cheers as we hoist the silver cup not a spoon, mind you a troubling recollection from the first known photograph a five year old, crew cut hands folded in prayer, holy communion nary a smile, nor sparkling eyes but all noticed the "spock like" ears they too are gone along with religions rhetoric manure did I really cut them off Van Gogh would be so proud again I've disappointed the masses by finally growing up.............