Crossed Wires
It’s a phone call, long distance,
your voice empty - echoes,
reminding just how far we have drifted,
How we can never again connect so easily -
without prejudice or distrust.
The phone line cackles with deception ,
With words thought but not spoken -
Caught in the void somewhere between
breath and vibration, sound and dictation,
Knowing it matters not how far one spreads their wings,
What lengths one will walk and
run, run, run,
One cannot escape what has gone before.
Perhaps it is fate that deters us from our promised path
Or a lacking of character – either way,
A bad seed cast carelessly delivers the fruit of temptation
And despite the best of intentions, leaves only sorrow in its wake.
Tempers fraught, apologies sought,
Wrongs that cannot be reversed
no matter how far across the globe traversed.
It is a phone call, long distance,
Words without diction,
Reality, not fiction
That fuels this static on the airways.
A lifetime of crossed wires.
Copyright © Jules B | Year Posted 2006
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