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Johnny Barfield Poem
alone now. swaying
shadow on the ground too crooked
for the sawmill
Copyright © Johnny Barfield | Year Posted 2012
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Johnny Barfield Poem
Does it matter if she doesn't know
I worked all week and paid the bills
The kids have clothes and school supplies
shouldn't I deserve a break?
Then again I made a promise
One I've made so many times
And one I've broke so many times
When does it hit the breaking point?
Ten days
Longer than most
Shorter than some
But back at day one
what does any of that matter?
I'll swear right now
Just like I have to her so many times
that bottle will be the last
But I bought two.
Copyright © Johnny Barfield | Year Posted 2015
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Johnny Barfield Poem
I walk into a room, invent myself again.
The old me, cast aside, wonders what was his sin.
He'll stand there for a moment, like the kid who wasn't picked.
A closely concealed quiver, on the newly freed me's lip.
But soon he'll find the others, who didn't make the grade.
All perfect life sized replicas of the changes that I've made.
They'll tell him of their plan to take my body back.
They try to get ahead of me so they can lay their trap.
They hide as I approach, as one they hold their breath.
But I reinvent myself again, and a copy's all they get.
Copyright © Johnny Barfield | Year Posted 2013
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