ever his little girl ...
she knew her daddy, suitably
the demons, the defeats, the drudgery and dreams
(dreams, deep and delirious,
as substances imposed)
no year of hers was
sans disappointment or broken vow
his life - a Stradivarius without a master hand
the edge of creative brilliance,
rusted by tears …
potential of a rare and exquisite temper
ravaged by emotional paralysis and chemic parody
little to redeem, and naught
meant for pride
still …
love saw fit to hold his hand, cooling
as his last breath left the day
only her lips, the grace ...
to kiss his eyes.
I confess
I am lonely
frigid in my separate space
wilted in my sad disgrace
this exile I alone must face
I confess
I am afraid
shaking in my sinful soul
this paranoia takes it’s toll
to flee that life my only goal
I confess
I am ashamed
uneasy in my wicked ways
longing to live back in those days
when life was lived in a chemic haze
I confess
I am wrong
for those I hurt along the way
my friends that I called out to play
it is forgiveness that I seek today
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